Tuesday and its up in the morning after a reasonable nights sleep, but not before a hot water and taking my vitals, which were okay, not great but they will do. I weigh myself as I had no opportunity over the weekend, being away. To my surprise and relief I weighed in at 99.9 kilos, anything under 100 kilos is a win these days with the introduction of steroids into my medications. So I climb into my training kit, because at soem point I will train and I cannot be doing with changing clothes all the time to do different things. I make my go to breakfast of fried egg sandwich and fruit juice and get my drugs down me.

Normally at this point I would train, there is the dishwasher to unpack and reload followed today by the need to retether the cover on the garden swing seat. Armed with strong cord and a mallet I get into the garden and get it sorted. While on a roll I open the cold frames and fill the bird and squirrel feeders. With nothing else to do in the garden its time to sort the laundry out, so I juggle what’s been left in the machines so that I can get my stuff underway. That’s it I think, its time to train and just as I am about to head for the garage and the rower the window cleaners arrive who as fortune would have it are also going to clear the gutters today. I watch them up their ladders and see how much stuff comes out of the gutters and ends up in the garden recycling bins. It would appear that I’ve made a lot of Ladybirds homeless. Finally the happy crew drive off and do the BACS thing to pay them. At last I can train train but not before I start todays blog and empty one laundry machine into another. Such is domestic bliss.

I eventually get to go into the garage and get myself set up on the rower. I decide to go for a 45 minute session as the day has moved on. I am in a full track suit to keep warm and I soon regret that decision. It is hard work and when I get to the 30 minute mark I am well behind my standard and feeling very tired. I try to push on and slowly I recover time and distance and by the time I get to the last 5 minutes I can see I might have a chance of making 9 kilometres. With one last push I make my goal, dripping sweat and knackered. Go me, this is the graft no one sees that earns me a better quality of life than those who cannot make this effort. Whatever it is in me that gets me to do this it is a strength.

I record my session in my journal and rest for a bit before going into the garden and closing up the cold frame lids. The tiler calls and we arrange for him to come tomorrow to start the preparation for the office floor. I get out of my training kit and then settle down to watch football on TV, eat tea and eventually watch the final of The Great British Bake Off, then back to the football. With TV over I take my meds, finish the blog and put the bins out. I go to bed knowing I have to be up to let “Bob” the tiler in to get on with the work. I’ve two more days before my next bloods which means I need to drink a lot of water so a new bottle of water goes to bed with me tonight.

I’ve been away for a long weekend but not before I went for a full bone scan on Thursday. It was one of those where I got filled with radioactive marker and then had to amuse myself for two hours before slipping into the magic magnetic tube to be scanned. I read I Am Legend which is truly excellent. My scan did not take long, or at least it did not see long but I suspect I might have napped for a while. My evening was all about packing and getting ready to drive to the Forest of Dean on Friday to see my youngest daughter who is growing a new grandson and to see my youngest grand child.

Friday was all about driving. Elsie is still a bit of a mystery at times but in general I think I have mastered most of the tech and where to find the right buttons to push. I am still disconcerted by the fact that it will show me a mileage and that it will increase once I get under way. There is a sweet speed that gives me the best miles per gallon which is most easily achieved on a long run. So once loaded up I drive to our destination with just one stop. I managed to do the drive without resorting to wine gums or Red Bull. Once arrived we got to meet the youngest grandchild who now has a much bigger vocabulary and an ability to pick up new ones at a swift pace. It also turns out that he is a great fan of Cherry Bomb by the Runaways. He has moved on from Timmy Trumpet and all the usual children’s songs, not to mention tunes from children’s TV programmes.

So by the end of the weekend we were all good at the Cherry Bomb dance led by the young man. It seems he has left Timmy Trumpet behind. Of course there were photo opportunities of him looking very cute, whether it was of home tucked up under my arm watching the Gruffalo with, sitting on a huge polar bear or making sure he got his share of hot chocolate. As he gets older I get increasingly wary of putting his picture up on the web, I’m not quite sure if this is an over reaction or not. I suspect in years to come he will be using social media as a matter of course but I do not feel comfortable putting him there now. Its one thing to share pictures with family and friends but the web is, I think, very different. Those of you who know me will of course know you can get pictures via the family WhatsApp group. One other gain from the weekend was the chance to increase the collection of Christmas tree ornaments. I like glass droplets so I bought two sets for this years tree.

So Monday arrives and its time to have breakfast and leave for home. With on last family dance to Cherry Bomb I load the car and drive my partner and I home in time to receive the Tesco delivery. My partner readies herself for her singing lesson tonight and my eldest daughter is off out to her art class, which leaves me to unpack and pick a film of my choice. All of this time is ordinary family stuff, which of course is far from ordinary.

This is a week that will seem me have a set of bloods before my next oncology review. The new scans are behind me now so it will all come together on Wednesday the 12th. The logic is of course in the arithmetic and overarching it all is the PSA score. I would be happy to continue with the steroids if the PSA is stable but if it is not the oncology boys and girls will want to test radio therapy on me and that I am not sure about. If I was not suitable some months back because of the risk of doing me more damage I am not sure the logic could support reversing that decision. So I have a sense that I may have to argue my corner. The last bone scan showed that my metastasis in my back and lymph had gone, I am hoping his bone scan confirms this. The CT scan of the soft tissue of my thorax and abdomen is the critical one as it should show the actual state of my prostate. I think this is the key. Either the cancer in my prostate is “contained” or its better or worse and this is the answer I need on the 12th. I do not want to hear what the oncology team have decided I want proper consultation and the evidence given to me so that I can make any decision that might be necessary. I guess this is why I am feeling fatigued and restless at the moment. All I can do is train tomorrow, keep active and keep recording my vitals and staying calm but focused.

Wednesday and I surface slowly having got to bed late last night. I take my vitals, all good, and then make breakfast. I have got into my training kit so after a while I go to the garage and set myself up for a 30 minute row. I try to start with a good pace and to my surprise I am able to keep it going.

I record the session in my journal and then shower. I while away time until its time to go for my scan. As I am putting the directions in to the Satnav a member of the publishers Ruler’s Wit arrived and collected 10 copies of Man to Man for an event on Saturday.

The scan took place in a nice new diagnosis centre at a local hospital. It was quick and efficient. It was a thorax and abdomen scan so I ended up with a cannula in my arm so they could pump a contrast dye into me. It was over very quickly and I was soon driving home to tea, football and a series. So the evening passes, take my meds and crawl off to be knackered. Tomorrow I have my nails done and then its another scan, the radiation one. Deep joy.

Tuesday and after a reasonable night’s sleep I wake up and take my vitals before getting up and having breakfast. There is time to trim my beard before m partner goes off to meet a friend for lunch. I set about finishing the mending I undertook on a broken holiday reminder we brought back from Greece. It took a while to grind off the excess glue that had leached through the material from back to front and taken up the print from the paper it was on. An unexpected outcome to my efforts to mend the plaque of faces. It takes a long time to slowly grind off the excess glue using my etching machine fitted with a small grind stone. Eventually I get it finished and replace it back on its spot at the head of the stairs.

Just as I finished and clear away my eagerly awaited parcel from Some Like it Holy arrives. I open the box and like what I see, but will it fit me. I am desperate for something other than jeans to wear and tonight I am going out so I hope the clothes fit me. I get them unpacked and start trying them on. The trousers need a minor adjustment and the braces attached, yes braces, they are replica vintage 1930’s Oxford bags, likewise the double breasted matching waist coat needs a small adjustment to the back strap, but once all this is done I pop them on. They fit and I am very happy. I take a photo, obviously tonight I shall wear a shirt with them and a pair of baroque shoes.

With all the clothing adjustments made I return to a late lunch and the start of drafting the days blog. The late afternoon is almost upon me when my partner returns. I prepare to hand over some copies of my book to my publishers who are going to an event this weekend and want some to take with them. It will then be a drift towards an evening in Loughborough to see Fascinating Aida, one of my favourite acts. So I am hoping to have an evening of joy without having wine spilt on me or some weirdo woman picking on one of my family, or me. It is my relaxation day before I start two days of having my nails done and two scans. The end of the week is going to be all go and heavy on energy spoons. Before I stop drafting a poem comes to me:

471
I look up,
there is blue sky,
a few clouds,
and I am shocked.
It is as if I had forgotten,
the vastness,
that quality of light.
All I had to do was
look up.
I know that this is 
what I want
my poetry 
to feel like.
The gap between 
sky and words
insurmountable,
between me and 
your soul
impossible. 

					471 28-10-2025

Monday and I am slow to wake up having slept heavily, however I take my vitals, which are okay but not brilliant, before getting on the phone to book my next 28 day jab and my next set of hospital bloods. With that out of the way I get into my training gear, adding the tracksuit bottoms as its going to be cold in the garage today. I go to the fridge to get eggs for my breakfast sandwich and find none, and then promptly over toast the last bagel resulting in a more crunchy bagel than I had planned for. With my meds taken I attend to some more live admin and then its time to go and row, my partner having gone to the gym for a bobbing bout in the water class.

The garage is cold, I have a headache for which I have downed paracetamol and I am not feeling any enthusiasm for the session, but I set an hours session to do. Sometimes I just have to suck it up and get on with it. The session is a slow slog as I listen to one of Radio three’s chill out sessions, it gets me through the session but my row is up not to par falling just short of twelve kilometres but the calories burn is acceptable.

I recorded the session and then take a shower and wash my hair once I am able to get the bead out of the end of my hair, but I get there in the end. It always feels so good to shower after a session. I return to the lounge where I find the tile delivery I was expecting has been made. They are propped up in the porch so I bring them in and stack them near the office where they will be eventually laid. I send a nudging message to the tiler and then start to draft the blog. It works as he rings me back quickly and we agree a timetable for him to come and do the floor preparation and the tile laying. So by the end of the first week of November we should be there. Another project done and dusted.

By five o’clock I am drafting the blog while my partner makes tea prior to her singing lesson. It will be a lazy night for me until Tesco deliver later on and then I am heading for bed before the start of a busy three days before going away at the weekend to see my youngest daughter and her ever growing bump with my youngest grandson. I have something bubbling away inside at the moment prompted by looking up at the sky the other day but I cannot get it to fall to the page yet, I shall have to be patient until whatever it is is ready, but I feel it strongly trying to find a way out.

Saturday and it is a lazy awaking as I take my vitals, all okay, and think about what I am going to do. There are some basic chores to be done and a lot of rugby to be watched. I keep an eye on the mail hoping that my new “going out” clothes might arrive, but alas they do not show up. So the day gets swallowed up with life admin and very quickly the family are eating an early tea prior to going out for the evening. My partner drives myself and our eldest daughter to the local theatre to see Fisherman’s Friends.

The theatre for forum and bars were full it was clear that it was going to be a full house. Once the auditorium doors are open people just escape to the auditorium. We find our seats, which are three on the end of a row and clearly mistime our entry as there is no one in the row as we sit. There is a continuing filling of the auditorium and of course we do the “uppy downy” dance as the rest of the row fills up.

Eventually everyone is in and Fisherman’s Friends get on with the show, but not before the trio behind me manage to spill a glass of red wine over my fleece jacket that I have tucked under my seat. The woman had the decency to tell me and offer me tissues, but my jacket sleeve and shoulder was drenched in a foul smelling red wine. The woman continues to apologies but what can you say to someone who has brought her elderly father, who is obviously not all there, out for a treat. The show goes on and the interval is reached. We go out for the break where I join the huge queue for a pee. This theatre has so few toilets that every time we visit there is always long queues for the toilets which is a real down side for people like me managing anything to do with a dodgy prostate. Its a challenge to my Will power to refuse an ice cream but I make it into the second half of the show.

The Fisherman’s Friends were good at what they did and of course saved their most popular songs till last. With the end of the last song large numbers of the audience around us just legged it for the exit. as a family we tend to let the rush go and take our time but this time a women starts having a go at my eldest daughter saying things about her enjoyment being ruined by my eldest daughter phone and filming the show, neither of which my eldest daughter was doing. Despite my daughters denials this woman continued to harass my daughter at which point I slipped in to “don’t fuck with my daughter” and told the woman to leave my daughter alone,, she ignored me so I repeated myself and got between them. We left and the woman turned round to follow us out, I ushered my crew out and left the woman complaining to the poor theatre usher as she continued on with whatever her issue was. There was something wrong about the whole thing that made me wary of what the underlying issue might actually be.

We loaded into the car and edged our way out of the car park and made our way home, where I settled down to watch football and the family went off to bed. I took my night meds and finally went to bed.

Sunday and I have missed the fact that the clocks have gone back an hour. I make warm drinks for my partner and I before taking my vitals. My vitals are better than I expected, which is good. I get up to breakfast cooked by my partner and we sit and watch the Strictly that we missed last night while we were out. The day is a drift, my partner continues to sew her latest project and I continue to have conversations about the development of a new website. With that out of the way my partner asks me to mend the ear on her elephant mug. This is an interesting challenge as the bits are small and need careful placement. With all the available pieces in place it becomes apparent that a small chip is missing. I have nothing to model the missing chip in so I decide to colour the thin white edges that have been left. Eventually I am done and return the mug to its kitchen shelf space. Much of this time I have the radio football coverage in my ears, and continue to have as I start to draft the blog. This evening there will of course be tea and the Strictly results show. I have organised my daily food and training journal and what I need to do this coming week. The highlights are two scans in readiness for my next oncology review on the 12th of November. It will be a watershed moment. Alongside the scans there are drugs to be ordered and bloods to be done, all of this punctuated by a night out to see Fascinating Aida and having my nails done. This all culminates in the drive down to spend the weekend with my youngest daughter. I am hoping that my spoons of energy see me through. In there somewhere I am hoping a tiler will reappear to finish the office floor. It never ends.

Friday and I wake up in a strange state after last nights late night, but I do surface sufficiently to do my vitals and hold a sensible conversation with my partner. My partner goes off to the gym for more “bobbing about in the water” while I have a breakfast and my morning meds. I send a few messages and leave a few for people regarding my clothing order but then it is time to train. I go to the garage and stare at the monitor, for the first time in a long time the temperature has dropped below 10 degree. I decide a short sharp 30 minute session is all I can manage today, so I set myself up and get going at a reasonable pace. By the end of time I have gone through my 6 kilometre standard and feeling drained.

I rowed the majority of the session to Augustin Hadelich playing Mendelssohn’s violin concerto number 2 in E, which was very pleasant and helped keep me rowing a good pace. It was a BBC 3 concert. When he finished he came out and to my surprise he played Orange Blossom Special and old Blue Grass tune that I first heard played by Flatt and Scruggs back in the sixties. There was a time I could play the opening on the guitar so hearing a world class violinist go for it as an encore was surprising. The contrast between the two is amazing. I give you both versions below. Listen and be amazed.

I get a call from the clothing merchant in response to my enquiry abut my order and it appears the Amazon server failure has affected the payment so I go back into my account and redo the order. This time money comes out of my account and everything goes through. By this time my partner is back from the gym and after a brief lunch we go to the garden centre to ensure that we have food for the weekend. It is throwing it down with rain so it is a quick dash there and back ending in a sit on the sofa and a recovery nap.

The evening rolls in, I change a light bulb and then start to draft the blog before a Pizza tea and a TV rugby match. I am tired and take my meds and get to bed looking forward to tomorrows treat of a visit to the theatre to see Fisherman’s Friend, which hopefully will be a jolly night.

Wednesday was a busy day, I woke up knowing that I would need to train and that the garden would need to be put to bed for the winter. After taking my vitals and checking my social media I got up and make breakfast and take my morning medications. I am in my training kit but there some chores to do first. Eventually I get to the garage and set the rower for a 45 minute session, as it feels like all I can deal with. The session is a bit of a flog and in the end I get to my preferred standard.

After the session I have a shower but as I go to apply something smelly post shower I drop the top and then discover the state behind the bathroom cabinet under the sink, so I set to and clean it up, organising the contents as I go. Not a job I expected but once done was useful.

I head for the garden and put the garden furniture under cover for the winter. It is a sessional ritual that seems to get pushed back further in the year. So with all the furniture under cover I can relax for the year.

With the garden packaged I sit down and spend ages trying to find myself an “outfit” . None of the clothes that I have that I consider presentable fits me any more so I am looking for something I can look nice in. As my body has changed with the drugs that have been put into it I need bigger clothes so I need to find something flattering. After a long time trawling the internet I return to “some like it Holy”. I have some stuff from this company that no longer fits but I really like, so I am hoping a new outfit will be equally likeable. I order a set of Oxford bags and a matching V waistcoat and hope it arrives quickly for a night out on Saturday. Before I know it I am into the evening eating pie and chips before more European football, night meds and bed.

Thursday and I have slept deeply, my partner has left for the physio and aqua aerobics. I go through my morning rituals and eventually get up and cook breakfast and take my meds. Today is the day I refill my drugs dosettes for the next two weeks, so I spend time popping pills from packets into the the daily dispensers. A tedious job but one of the rituals that maintains my external scaffolding and sees me through the tasks of each day. I take the opportunity to spend a lot of time booking tickets for shows at the local theatre way into next spring. Its all part of a strategy of getting out and about and keeping my brain fed with new experiences. With at least five trips out booked I stop and go into the garden and finish off some garden tidying. When my partner returns we go out to the garden centre and after a quick drink load up a bag of bird seed and go home. Without stopping my partner and I walk to the village shop. I buy sultanas and apricots that have become my new sweets. Once home its crossword time until the evening meal and more European football but I get bored with it and it turns into a Rom Com night. I try to draft the blog for the two missing days but I get progressively more tired and having taken my night meds I go to bed about 1am tired and dissatisfied. I know that I am battling against the feeling of being in limbo as I do not know what my cancer is doing and the coming week is full of scans and tests before I go away for a weekend. My next oncology review draws ever closer and it feels that this one could change the direction that my treatment takes. That is what is in both the back and front of my mind at the moment, which appears to be making focusing on anything but mundane task the order of the day.

Tuesday and I wake up feeling quite perky as my partner goes off to the gym and my eldest daughter goes off to work. I am free to make breakfast and take my morning meds once I have taken my vitals. My vitals have been good lately and I am still pondering whether it is the steroids or the lack of refined sugar that is responsible, perhaps both. Having popped my closes into the tumble drier I sit down to start writing new content for the new website that is under construction by my publishers at Ruler’s Wit. The idea is to have separate site for the poetry and to use it to promote new work and talk about the whys and wherefores of the work. I am into my second page when my partner returns for lunch.

I drive us in Elsie to a tile and bathroom fitments shop in a local village where my partner and I go through the vast selection of tiling. To our mutual surprise we find a tile that we both like and think suitable. Without too much fuss we order the tiles we need, finding out in the process that the chap serving us is the nephew of our tiler “Bob”. Small world eh? On returning home I resume drafting stuff for the new web site, having retrieved the washing from the drier. I do a crossword and then send the content off to the website builder and start to draft todays blog. The evening meal is approaching and I know that tonight is a European football night so I know what I will be doing, although I have to say I think I am tiring of football, it has become formulaic and boring a lot of the time. It seems to have lost its ability to excite anymore. I could find myself inadvertently in Rom Com night before I down my night mends and head for bed.

Saturday and I am up early as “Bob” is arriving at 9am to strip the parquet floor tiles off the office floor. I just have time to have breakfast and my morning meds before “Bob” arrives armed with hammer and bolster. He also had a pair of knee pads the like I have never seen before, clearly a man who spends a lot of time on his knees laying tiles. He set to work and got on with getting ready for the afternoon poetry stanza. “Bob” was extremely efficient and had the tiles up in a couple of hours, well before I needed to go out. Money passed hands and we agreed to meet up with him and his builder friend on Monday to decide on the next steps.

I drove to the new venue for the poetry stanza, which I had researched for parking beforehand. Its a new venue for the group so it was exciting to be traveling to a new venue. I arrived at the new venue and found it to be locked so I sat in the churchyard and ate an apple and read a letter from a friend that had arrived that morning. Dead on the dot of 2pm people arrived including the woman who was to let us in. The group had two new attendees along with a few old hands. I gave the group a choice between my “donkey” or my “cat ” poem”. One person jumped in quickly for the “donkey” so that’s what they got. By five o’clock we were done and I drove home in Elsie, still getting used to the feel of the new car, but I have to say she is very very comfortable.

I get home and settle down to watch a rugby match on TV and then move into the evening, watching Strictly and some other stuff. I cannot do all the football highlights so take my night meds and go to bed.

Sunday and for some reason I am knackered and struggle to get up by noon and even then I feel crap. Did I over do it yesterday or is this just one of those crap days. When I do get up I feel like a slug on downers but I do repackage a copy of Man to Man that has been returned to me as the address I sent it to no longer hosts the newspaper I sent it to. In repacking the book I amend the accompanying letter and as I do so I realise the mobile number I put on the original letter was wrong. The email is right so I just hope they use it. With the repacked ready to go tomorrow I slump, already out of energy spoons so I watch another rugby match until tea time and the evening slips into gear. Of course I watch the Strictly results show and am appalled by the wrong person going out. I crawl towards bed, having taken my night meds and hoping to wake up pin a better place convinced that I have probably fallen asleep earlier.

Monday and I wake up feeling far more chipper than yesterday. I take my vitals and get up and into my training kit. I intended to have a hearty fried egg sandwich but the lack of eggs stimmed that so it was plain toast and another hot water tat starts my day. My partner has gone to aqua aerobics so I head for the garage and the rowing machine. Given how crap I felt yesterday I know I need an hour’s row to staff off the drug side effects, so I set the session up and get going. By the 30 minute mark I am half a kilometre down on my standard so I try to pick up the pace a bit. By the end of the hour I have caught up and I have managed to reach my standard of 12 kilometres and burnt off 800+ calories, so go me.

After having rested for a while I shower and drink large amounts of soup to recover. There is a quick trip to the post office to send the repackaged book to the local newspaper and then it was back home to start drafting the blog and awaiting the Tesco order delivery and “Bob” the tiler to arrive with his mate “Bill” the builder to look at the office floor. Unexpectedly Tesco deliver early, so there was a lot of squirreling activity to get it all away . Not long afterwards “Bob” and “Bill” rock up and we do the standing on a floor assessing the what is required. We decide that a waterproof coating will go down and then a leveller over which the tiles will go. They suggest a couple of tile provider and we note the names and the fact that we need 4.5 square metres of tiles to cover the office floor. “Bob” says he will source the waterproof coating and give me a bell when he has it and arrange a time to do the work. So its time to draft the blog and move into the evening. As my partner has her singing lesson tonight and my eldest daughter is at her art class I shall choose a suitable ridiculously violent film. Tonight I shall go to bed a much happier person than yesterday and tomorrow I am looking forward to visiting a tile shop.