Saturday. I wake after a reasonable night and check my messages and other social media stuff. My partner brings me hot water and I do my vitals, which are okay. Once my partner has left to go and see her mother in hospital I get up and make breakfast, take my meds and empty the dishwasher. I scribbled a poem before I got up and I think it reflects one of the dangers that face me in the coming months.

526
Bed cannot be 
my safe space.
It’s tempting,
cosy, warm
and makes no
demands.
I could lay here,
drift, reflect and 
write.
But this siren state
will drain me
of energy and will,
wrapping me up 
and cutting me off
from the world.
Out there is where
my time needs living,
where risk and reward
bring colour to a life
hard fought for.

					526 09-05-2026

Its almost noon as I start to draft the blog knowing that I am about to watch a football match followed by some international rugby. This morning I took some prophylactic paracetamol to see if it helps me to keep going, I guess I am about to find out.

The paracetamol did indeed help. I watched a lot of rugby and football during the afternoon and spent a bit of time looking at what is flowering in the garden. Despite being slightly over grown the garden is producing a lot of colour and flowers.

My evening is filled with the final episodes of a detective drama and football highlights. I take my meds, update the blog and get myself to bed. I am hoping that tomorrow I can pull together the pots I need for my sunflowers.