Tuesday and it is oncologist day. I get up and have breakfast and then get the paper work out and wait for his call. Just after 9 o’clock “he who made a pact with the devil” rings and asks how I am. So I give him the list of ailments that I have had since we last spoke, its a long list. I tell him about my GP referral to urology due to my exercise induce blood in the urine. He suggests that I will not find them useful and we talk about options. From his point of view I am still in a “good as it gets” state. He suggests that he gets the specialist nurse to ring me later to talk about options. We say our farewells and I stare into space for a while.
Rousing myself from my reflections I get myself sorted to completer the grouting on the bathroom floor. I spend the next couple of hours on my hands and knees grouting. Not something you get to say often. By lunchtime the job is finished and I sit down to a dish of chicken soup and wonder when the nurse is going to ring me. I am very apprehensive about tomorrows urology assessment and feel unsure about the wisdom of it. I retreat to the Shed and sort out the feeding of the hedgehog before settling done to write a letter. It is my last stamp, which I must put right. I close up the Shed and walk over to the post office dropping my letter in the box on the way and then buy a couple of books of stamps. They now come in books of 8! The stamp now has a barcode attached. Another techno change in this changing world. I return home and contemplate a training session.
My phone rings. It is the cancer nurse. She is cheery and tells me she has talked to “he who made a pact with the devil” and is aware of my situation. I explain how I am and she is clear that I do not need the urology assessment. She and the oncologist both agree that the blood is a result of the apixaban I am taking. We talk about exercise options and management of any blood loss. At the end of the discussion we agree that I will not attend tomorrows assessment and that the nurse will cancel it with the department. She says that she will go and see them to do that after our call. I thank her. I am so relieved that I am not going to the hospital tomorrow. For the first time for what seems weeks I feel I can get on with life and take control of my regime and my life balance. It feels like I can get on with life the way I want to now.
I go to the garage and train. I do another rower session for half an hour. Surprise, I set a personal best for this level. I get myself out of the garage and retreat to the sofa where I record my session and start to watch Wimbledon.
Our dinner guest arrives and the evening begins with a meal. I leave my partner and friend to chat post dinner and I start to draft the blog. Serena Williams is finding out that 40 really is too old to come back after not playing for a year. My evening feels good for the first time in a long time and I have the sense that I can look forward to tomorrow without anything other than my cancer to fight. And I know how to do that!
