Monday was the start of a decidedly crap couple of days. The day started with a trip to the GP to get my regular 28 day injection. The nurse was chatty and remarked how good I was looking compared to how I was 28 days ago, when she ushered me into see the doctor and start the horrendous visit to the hospital. I returned home with a paper and some treats and settled down to do the crosswords. By mid afternoon I am laying on the recliner covered with a blanket shaking like a junkie doing cold turkey feeling absolutely shit. This happens at times, as my body makes it quite clear it did not want the chemicals pumped into it. This is how I am till I crawl of to bed to try to sleep pausing only to down my evening meds and a couple of paracetamol.
My hope for sleep was misplaced as I spent my night throwing myself about trying to get comfortable to the extent that my partner decamped to the spar room. It was a rough night.
Tuesday morning arrives and I am absolutely knackered before I start. I eventfully get out of bed and manage breakfast. I feel sore and fatigued beyond reason but I check my emails and find the first draft of The Cancer Years: Breathless from the Americans. I spend my morning going through the draft trying to get it into shape. Eventually I am satisfied with the format and the edits. I send the amended draft off to the Americans and will now wait for both of the new updated draft and cover design. I get a call from the nuclear medicine team and organise a new heart scan for the 24th of the month, so I have things to look forward to. By the time I’ve done the editing I am spent and end up resting, fortunately this is a European football night and I have matches that I can watch. This is how my evening goes until the final whistle of the final match ends at which point I take my night meds and crawl of to bed hoping for sleep and recovery as tomorrow is my oncology review.
Wednesday and thankfully I have slept reasonably and I detect signs of recovery. For the first time in a while I take my vitals and to my surprise my vital are good, my blood pressure comes out good on first reading. My blood pressure was 120 over 70 is a good first reading. On getting up I get into my training gear in anticipation of training after my oncology review. The oncology boys and girls have given me a two hour slot so there is time to fill. I have breakfast and then start to load my vitals data into my Excel spreadsheet. Its a slow process but eventually I am able to calculate my average vitals over the periods of taking meds and not taking meds. The arithmetic tells me I am better when I am not taking any meds, the fly in the ointment is that my PSA has risen by 0.5. Its going to be a juggle. Eventually the oncologist rings me and we have a chat. I bring her up to date and we talk about a strategy as my consultant oncologist wants me to get started back on my cancer medication. We agree that I will start again after the scan on the 24th September, and the oncology boys and girls will talk to me again in four weeks time. The really good bit of news was that the onco boys and girls had seen my latest CT scan and it was good, apparently everything is stable.
With the medical stuff out of the way I am free to train. Its a kill or cure approach, so I get into the garage and get onto the rower. I decide to go for a 45 minutes session while I listen to The Infinite Monkey Cage. I get myself under way and then just find a rhythm and keep going. It turns out as a reasonable session with me going over 7k+. Given my current state I am quite pleased with the outcome.
The session comes to an end and I record it in my journal. I change out of my training gear and then get on with catching up with the blog. There is a busy time as the garden guy arrives to continue the autumn cut back. I’ve just had time to make him a coffee and pay him and the Tesco delivery arrives. After this flurry of activity I return to the blog while listening to Mark Steels In Town in Gibraltar. Its another European football night, so I will be able to rest this evening. I need to think about what poem I am going to take to this weekends Poetry Stanza.
My evening is football and finishing the blog before taking my evening meds and going to bed early. I am hoping that tomorrow will signal getting back to some sort of balance and rhythm as there is nothing in my diary.
