Tuesday and I am just awake when my partner brings me hot water before she goes to the physiotherapist and the onto her aqua class at the gym. I sip my drink, check my emails and social media and then call the GP surgery to book my COVID and Flu jabs. So now I have something to look forward to on the first of October. I write a poem, not brilliant but where I am.

558
Ten o’clock
still in bed
as I struggle 
to open another day.
My mind ticks off
the to do list
of everyday self
maintenance tasks,
and before I know it
I’m  exhausted 
at the thought of it.
This is fatigue
and the voice
that pleads for respite.
Still the question,
“What is this?”
gnaws away at me.
Am I abandoned?
Is this remission?,
or just waiting.
Perhaps caste off
to die
and the doctors staying quiet.
Bloods on Friday,
So data at last,
then a phone call
midweek.
I’m not hopeful
of any answers,
in their minds
I’m 12 to 18 months
And 9 of those
have gone.
A body
half full.

					558 08-09-2026

Finally I manage to get out of bed and take a shower. It perks me up a bit when I feel fresh and clean. The next task is breakfast, I go for fast and easy, which in my world is muesli, yoghurt and fresh orange juice. Its A second Tuesday in my drugs rota so I spend time filling my drugs dossetes for the next two weeks while my washing sloshes around in the machine. By twelve o’clock the life admin has been done and I have time to draft the blog and to read the letter from Prostate Progress inviting me to join. It appears to be a research project which will ask me to fill in surveys and to contribute to ideas for treatment and services. I am not one for joining things but I am tempted to contribute Maybe I will sell them a few books. So far today it feels relatively productive.

My partner returns from the gym as I am in the middle of the days crosswords, I leave my puzzles and we go to a local garden centre for lunch. I chose a baked potato with tuna mayo, I would not usually mention my food but it was the cost of this one that was staggering. It seemed disproportionately priced compared to my partners scone platter, which I swear had more calories. Any way we ate and then looked for a pair of matching pots to house our new perennial shrubs that we intend to be the front door guardians. We had no luck so returned home empty handed. I finished my puzzles and attend to my broken nails before catching up on the blog. It is a European night of football tonight but it is also the semi final of the great British Sewing Bee so there are some tricky choices to be made.

Whatever the out come I shall end up taking my night meds and going off to bed one day closer to the bloods on Friday and whatever logic is in their arithmetic. What ever they are I am hoping they move me on from What ever this is?