Monday, awake early and coffee in hand contemplating the day, including the fact that a friend has now got underfloor heating in the new bathroom and I find myself envious as I contemplate the first journey to the bathroom and my cold tiled floor. I get up and dress, breakfast quickly, down my morning meds and some prophylactic paracetamol, before walking down to the GP surgery to have my 28 day injection. Its the left side of my gut this month which is less lumpy than the right and tends to be a better experience. The injection goes okay, and then I book next months with the nurse. While I am at it I book my “bloods” for Friday the the 20th for my oncology review on the 24th. I walk home collecting a paper on the way so that when I settle down with another coffee I have crosswords and puzzles to do. I contemplate how well I am and wonder if I am being too reticent in my life style and whether I should just throw caution to the wind and go to Spain for a holiday, I crave the sun. Once I am done with the up coming oncology review and my partner has the results of her endoscopy then perhaps is the best time to seriously consider a bolt for the sun, providing I can find some affordable travel insurance, which allegedly the government do.

I clear the kitchen and collect the camera from the garden to check what has been wandering around in my garden. I am disappointed to find that the camera has continued to not take night pictures so all I have is pidgeons, cats and squirrels on camera but none of the potential interesting beasties that tend to roam the night. I reload the battery compartment, adjust the settings and replace the camera back in the garden but in a new position. I email the Apeman techno support team and ask about night vision failure but I have little hope of a useful response. In a surreal moment I think perhaps I’ve not fed my camera enough carrots. While I’ve been playing with my camera the post man has delivered and amongst the usual instant recycling crap that comes in every post there is a letter for me. My expectation is that it is from one of my usual correspondents but I am surprised to find it is from someone that I have not heard from for years. They have moved on from their old address and found a new partnership in their new environment. It sounds very happy and productive. I shall reply in due course, but for the moment its time for a lunchtime coffee and an indulgent chunk of Christmas Panettone before the afternoon training session.

As I nibble my way through my Panettone I notice just how crumby the carpet is, this will not do. As a result I hoover the house. Job well done, not an escaped Christmas tree needle to be seen anywhere. I take a break and another coffee during which a friend rings. We haven’t spoken this year and it was good to catch up. As usual she was up to her ears in the Real World and on her way to collecting one of her children from school. I guess the new year has well and truly kicked in for everyone now. My injection is kicking in and my gut is feeling sore so I down some more paracetamol and go to the garage to train. I find that it is important to make the effort otherwise its easy to sink into waiting for everything to be right and it very rarely is. Its colder than I bargained for and add an extra layer before I set off on the session. I set the session for an hour at my cruise level, as I have said before its important to show your body whose boss. Its a rugged row this hour but I get to the end of it reasonably satisfied. I’ve burnt 800+ calories so that will do.

I record the session and then move the car from the drive so Tesco can deliver later on, after which I change into my casual evening lounge attire and catch up drafting the blog. My partner is fasting in preparation for her procedure tomorrow afternoon so it is going to be an early night for us as she has to get up at 5:30 am tomorrow to start downing copious amounts of the pre procedure meds. Its going to be a long day for everyone tomorrow but longest for her. It is a reality of this blog that although it is about my cancer journey, inevitably it is also about the fact that my cancer is not a thing in isolation, my family get ill as well and that is all part of the juggle and the fight.

Sunday and it is a lazy start to the day with coffee in bed and more time to chat. Time for the Sunday weigh in. I get up on the scales and peek downwards the display. I am satisfied as I see 96.0 kilos come up. This is a loss of 1.3 kilos over last week. I am pleased give the limited training and the a end of my cold. I have 15 days to make more reductions in my weight before my next oncology review. So despite tomorrow being an injection day I need to make an extra effort to maintain my fitness and diet regime. Its the only life style influence I have. Once up its time for breakfast, plain and simple with coffee and morning meds. It did afford me the opportunity to use my newly acquired honey spoon, and very satisfactory it was. There was an attempt to make the usual Sunday call to our youngest daughter but there was no reply so my partner and I go off to the garden centre to buy vegetables and bland food for my partners pre endoscopy procedure on Tuesday. We gather up our food requirements and then search Lakelands for a ceramic cooking dish to discover that Lakeland only sell plastic, actually plastic and electrical cooking gadgets. The only ceramic object in the entire store was a Tagine which was hideously over priced. I am Lakeland disillusioned.

So back home its tidy up Sunday, with bins to empty, beds to change and the house to tidy, however in there is some TV football, and a bloody minded printer that will not print the required documents and insists on churning out copies of my tax return. I eventually manage to get it fixed and my partners required documents printed. Its back to football and a face time call with my youngest daughter. It feels like a very disjointed day. Somewhere in the afternoon I book ticket for my eldest daughter and I to go and see Stewart Lee. So already there are two or three cultural outings in the new years diary. The evening is TV based, His Dark Materials followed by Happy Valley will see me through to an early night, night meds and the prospect of tomorrows monthly injection first thing in the morning.

Saturday, and I am brought a coffee in bed and my partner and I then spend a couple of hours chatting and wondering about the future. It seems that this Saturday morning ritual is becoming our usual catch up and planning time. Eventually we get up for brunch. Today is the anniversary of the end of chemotherapy for me. This time three years ago I was bald with ridged nails and all the other joys of chemo. The chemo was supposed to give me an extra 18 months to add to the 8 months that the survival curves for people with a Gleason score of 9.5 gave me. By reckoning that’s 26 months, and here I am 36 months down the way from the end of chemo. That’s 10 months beyond prediction. Every day of my life now is a free gift of time. That’s quite something and something to hold onto as I get into 2023.

Brunch is something my partner can eat on her pre endoscopy diet. Between now and Tuesday she is eating a specific diet, so we dine and then slowly get ready to go to the gym. The post arrives and brings my son’s Christmas card. The kitchen gets cleared and sport gear gets organised as we ready ourselves to make the effort. We drive to the gym in clear weather as the rain has abated for a while. The gym floor is busy but I get a cross trainer. I set a session for 45 minutes and plug into the TV function so I can watch Leicester Tigers get thrashed by Newcastle. I get myself going and try to get into some sort of rhythm. It seems a long 45 minutes but when it does arrive there is a 5 minute warm down to do on the machine. I photograph the display and then walk the floor to cool down and finish my bottle of water.

I indulge in a long warm shower and then head for the members lounge and a large black americano. I watch some rugby while waiting for my partner to arrive. We both have coffee and chat a bit more about our up coming brushes with the medical profession. The journey home is in driving rain, in which we navigate the road closures in the village. I find my eldest has discovered that Amazon Video has Rammstein available so watch for a while once my kit is sorted. Amazon has delivered my new stainless steel honey dipper. An addition to the household implements that I discovered we needed when forced to use a jar of honey rather than a squeezy bottle. There is football to watch and tea to eat as I start to draft the blog. Tonight’s film is The Girl in the Spiders Web. The evening meanders to its conclusion with me taking my night meds, tomorrow sees me start my prophylactic paracetamol in readiness for Monday’s injection. At the moment my social media is full of jokes about a prince, sometimes I wonder about whether speaking ones truth in public is a good idea as it seems kindness is at a premium. Having said that some of the humour is witty and sharp. Its an ethical conundrum.

Friday and I get a letter from a friend that tells me there are issues accessing the blog. I too have experienced some difficulty to get into the latest entry at times, I’m not sure what the difficulty is, but I have found it is possible to get in if I go to search on the page and type in the latest heading. So for example today is ROCKET 67. If you type that in it should come up. I’ve also found that if I go in and type prost8kancerman.co.uk in a fresh time that this will sometimes do the trick. On my phone pushing the forward arrow repeatedly on screen sometimes brings up the latest entry. So if your having trouble and reading this, well done for getting here. If you are having trouble consistently leave a comment and let me know. Alternatively if you have found an easy and reliable way of getting into the updated blog then please leave your secret in my comments and I will share it on the blog. Thank you. The figures for people visiting the blog have gone down post Christmas so it is either that fact that people are having trouble getting in to the blog or its the post Christmas slump in interest. I guess this is all part of my headline journey into advanced cancer and dyslexic blogging. There are bound to be hiccups along the way, this maybe one of them.

As usual my day started about 9 o’clock and moved to a breakfast of coffee, panettone and morning meds. Most of my morning has been life and blog admin but I am now sorted for 2023. My bank accounts up to date, tax assessment sorted and Tesco order done, there is little else to disturb me apart from my brain. So its time to move on and get my arse back into training so its off to the garage and the rowing machine for me. I’ve realised that I’ve stopped feeding myself, as I’ve not read for a couple of days nor created anything, nor planned any cultural input over the next few weeks, so I need to get myself back into this. But for now its rower time.

It had been 12 days since I last trained, Christmas Eve in fact. Since then the cold I acquired for the festive period has prohibited me from training but there comes a point when it becomes unbearable to feel the weight go on and the degradation of of fitness. So I approach my return to training with my usual rugged approach. Sometimes you just have to show your body whose boss and to tough it out. So I get into the garage all psyched up to go for it, get the ear phones on, don the trainers and gloves and press the console button to set the session and the screen goes blank! The bloody batteries have died so I have to unscrew the console to fit new batteries and reset the display, then I can start. Now I can set myself for an hour at my cruise level. So finally I get underway, watching my stroke rate, pull wattage and calories burnt. I grind at quite a high pace for the hour. The result is good for a first time out after 12 days and I am feeling fairly good, I think making the effort and raising my body temperature helps counter act the cold.

I get out of the garage and record the session before heading to the bathroom for a luxury bath bomb bath. Its good to lazy and soak for a while until finally its time to join the rest of the family in the lounge for the evening. Pizza tonight and I guess Death in Paradise. During a quiet moment in the day my eldest and I hunted for ballet tickets. As usual Swan Lake was sold out so we moved onto alternatives eventually settling on Coppelia. So the family will be settling down on a Monday in March to feast on live ballet where you can hear the patter of block shoes across the stage and the occasional grunt of a missed timed lift. We are also looking at comedians but that is a bit more tricky so find someone who ticks the boxes for all the family. So that’s it for today, my monthly supply of drugs has been collected including Mondays injection so at some point I will start taking prophylactic paracetamol to ward off the nastier side effects of the injection. Messages during the day tell me that my letters are starting to arrive and others show the fruits of labour to the tune of a new bathroom. I myself receive a letter from a friend who, like me, is experiencing the relief of the festive season being over. So there is life out there going on. Perhaps I will join in. Tomorrow is likely to be a gym day in preparation for Sundays weigh in.

Thursday and I wake up and rise before 9 am. I do breakfast and coffee before getting trapped by a crime programme on TV. Basic mistake turning on the TV in the first place , need to stop doing that. I go to the Shed to write letters and there I stay till lunchtime writing away with my new glass dipping pen, a Christmas present. As I leave the Shed to get a lunch time coffee I note that the Shed door has come adrift at its lower hinges. I am not amuse and alarmed that my Shed (haven from the world) is in disrepair. I immediately spring into analysis mode. Clearly the screws are to small and short. I consider the age and state of the wood to take bigger screws. I calculate that I need to increase the Shed frame depth to take take longer screws and provide good anchorage for the hinge screws. This is a project requiring my particular skills. I’m good at mending stuff, as witnessed by my Mr and Mrs Mickey Mouse restoration of a few days ago.

I return to the house and gather up the tools and materials I need and return to the Shed foregoing my lunch. Time is of the essence in these times of decreased day light. I cut a reinforcing wood block and screw it to the inside of the Shed door frame. This will provide additional depth and strength to screw into. I test out some new screw lengths and settle on two inch ones to replace the old ones. I dowse the hinge with WD 40 to ensure it actually moves as it should the reset the door in the frame so the hinge is lined up correctly. It is then a case of screwing in the new retaining screws and making sure they anchor properly in the newly reinforced frame. All goes well and to my great pleasure the door is back in full working order. Time to put the tools away and indulge in a late lunchtime coffee and a chunk of Panettone.

I return to writing letters until my first round of new year correspondence is completed. I pack up the Shed having first Hoovered it thorough as an early Spring treat, and return to the house. I pop out to the post box and send my letters off into the world. On my return I realise that I have not got ant fresh past for tea so go off to the village in search for some. Todays lesson is that none of the shops in the village stock fresh pasta. I settle on a bag of dried pasta and a paper. My walk back was longer than I expected. The gas pipes in the village are being upgraded and replaced, which means that today the gas company have started to dig up the road block off the pedestrian pathways. Whilst I was in the Shed the gas replacement representative took my partner through what is going to happen when they get to us. We will lose gas for two separate days in the coming week and have been provided with a heater and a single ring cooker plate. It all sounds plausible and doable but having read the information package they gave us there are some possible tricky bits but I guess I will find out in due course.

Evening arrives and my partner makes our Thursday traditional tea of tuna past. Tonight there is to be no singing lesson for my partner so there will be a quite evening of viewing. I start to draft the blog and look forward to an early night. It’s beginning to feel as if I am recovered enough to start training again. At the back of my mind is the approaching oncology review and I am like a dissatisfied athlete who has not been in training and has a race to run. Still at least I got through my first wave of letters for the new year.

Wednesday and it feels as if this is the start of my year as the Christmas decorations have gone and the other household members have gone back to work. So they are awake and closeted in their work spaces around the house and I can hear the conversations as the screens show meetings going on and documents being worked on. I have breakfast and coffee followed by my morning meds. I order my monthly meds after checking my calendar. After a bit of clearing up I go off to the Shed to write letters.

By lunchtime I’ve completed a single letter, which reflects my sluggishness and the effects of the cold that I am finding it difficult to shake off. Chicken soup is the obvious choice when I have a cold, so I settle down to a warm dish and the lunch time news. I continue my letter writing through the afternoon interspersed with playing Tim Minchin songs. Eventually I have to pause my writing to welcome the Tesco deliver and get it squirreled away. As I am putting things away I notice that there are two squirrels in the garden. I watch them and do not move until I have seen both of them lift the lid on the squirrel feeder and successful access the food. I return to the letter writing but whilst checking my social media I noticed a post from a colleague from the Therapeutic Community community. He had reposted a very powerful performance from someone I had not heard of. It certainly gripped my attention and hopefully I can find it to add to the end of the blog so that you can see what you think of it. I continue to write letters until my partner returns from visiting her mother. Just before 5 o’clock I leg it to the post box outside the chippy and post office and breathe a sigh of relief when I find that it had not yet been emptied. Later I am to return to the chippy with my partner to collect our fish adn chip tea.

My evening starts with the drafting of the blog against the background of news, which includes exploding candles. At last my bank has caught up with my standing orders and my monthly movements of money have finally arrived where they should, which is a relief. Although I had forgotten that I had booked a holiday in June/July and also forgotten when it needs to be paid for. I finally find the right app on my phone and find I can stay cool until the end of April. So I set out into the evening with the intention of ending up at the football highlights before doing my meds and getting to bed. I have promised myself to try and get up early tomorrow morning as I feel I am slipping into the habit of not getting up before 9 o’clock. I’m constantly aware that I am not “Rocketing” as I wanted to and my oncology review is edging nearer. Its the feeling of not being in control or at least not doing what I can do to make it as good as it can be. A friend reminded me that my screen saver at work was “Under no circumstances buckle”, I do not think or intend to buckle but I feel I might have bent a bit. Still its the heat of the forge that straightens the steel.

Tuesday, the day Christmas dies. I wake up to the sounds of a household working from home and know that its loft and recycle time. First is the triple fried egg sandwich and coffee to fortify me for the coming hours of stripping, untangling, wrapping and storage box juggling. Not to mention the perilous ascensions to the loft loaded with awkward slippery plastic storage boxes. It went just as I thought it would, prolonged wrestling festive baubles and tinsel into designated boxes. As usual the four sets of tree lights were a pain in the arse to disentangle and wrestle into their respective boxes. It seems this year we used a lot of tinsel. Eventually I am down to the bare tree. I chop it up and get it into the recycling bin, which is fortuitous as the recycling collection is tomorrow. The bins go out and then I am in to sweeping and clearing up. Its gone 4 o’clock before I am finally finished. The House is now as it was before the seasonal decorations. I realise that my triple fried egg sandwich was a long time ago so make a coffee and indulge in some panettone. I stare into space for a while and then seek entertainment. I find a Tim Minchin concert to watch and just sat in awe of his talent and laughed a lot. I would definitely pay money to see him live. Tea time comes around and I start to draft the blog. The evening beckons, no idea what I’ll watch, read, write or do as I am already out of spoons with the effort of clearing away Christmas. The stuff is all there for next year, I just need to be.

Its Monday the 2nd of January, another Bank Holiday. I’m awake and drinking coffee in bed at 9 o’clock. Being also talented and able to multitask I book a Tesco slot and do the shopping for the coming week before checking my social media. Its a bacon sandwich for breakfast with the family around the table and conversation. It was during this that I learn, or was reminded by my family that my sister is going into hospital today for two or three days for some ongoing tests and treatment for the heart condition that put her in hospital in the autumn. It reminds me that today is the anniversary of my mothers death some 14 years ago. I’m not sure why that came to mind so readily but it did. At the moment family and family history seems to be important. It leaves me feeling reflective about my own future. I sense this maybe in part the consequences of trying to overcome this damn cold that has left me feeling turgidly listless.

Post breakfast, which is really almost lunch, I drive my partner and I to the gym. I’m not in a fit condition to train but I need to get to of the house and drink different coffee. While my partner goes off to exercise I settle down with a large black americano and the laptop to start the blog. I note that very few people have viewed the blog over the last couple of days and put it down to post Christmas and New Year malaise. People out there in the Real World have lives that are full and busy and mine, I realise, has become somewhat restricted. Having struggled for energy recently it has meant that I’ve done less than I might have intended, either that or I am just becoming idle, although it appears that no one told my brain. Bizarrely I went to sleep last night thinking about the difference between Faith and Belief. No idea why, but I obviously did not find it intriguing enough to stay awake. I am though still thinking about my friends suggestion to change the name of the blog. Having drafted what I can of the blog I write a reply to a friends letter that arrived recently.

I drive my partner and myself home after another coffee together and as soon as we get home we are off out to the village shop to get vegetables for tonight’s meal. Already it is getting dark and it feels as if the day has already gone as the temperature drops. I walk over to the post box and send the letter I wrote at the gym, then I am back on the sofa reading Moomin and the Golden Leaf and Moomin, The Complete Tove Jansson Comic Strip. A friend once alerted me to the criticism that has been made about the later Moomin stories written by other people but keeping the art work of Tove Jansson. The Golden Leaf is an example of a non Tove Jansson authored story and I have to say I found it lacking in the depth and subtlety that the originals have. I immediately read the first story in the Complete Comic Strip after the Golden Leaf and found that there really is a difference in the quality of thought that has gone into the story. As I write this I realise that I am in danger of writing a really obsessive analysis of this in a similar vein as is to be found in American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis, where he writes intricate details of such things as the difference between Armani and Armani Emporium goods or the quality of business cards. I shall leave Moomin literary criticism to those whose field it is.

I return to drafting the blog and move onto the evening meal after which I try to contain my excitement that the Mighty Brentford are two nil up against Liverpool at half time. I’m cold and vaguely distracted this evening. There are probably a number of contributing factors but like all things it will only become clear, if it does, over time. I am aware that tomorrow is the day I shall put all the Christmas decorations away in the loft and recycle the actual Christmas tree. If I manage that I aim to gently train for the first time this year. The Mighty Brentford actually beat Liverpool 3-1 to send me to bed a happy person. Clearly I am easily pleased.

Sunday, Happy New Year! As its a Sunday my first act is to weigh myself to see what damage having a cold, not training and festive feasting has done to my weight. I get on the scales and they show me I am 97.2 Kilos an addition of 1.3 kilos. I am of course sad to have put on weight but it is not as bad as it could have been. With that out of the way I make warm drinks for myself and my partner and return to bed to have new year chat and to reflect on the future. I don’t get out of bed until 11 o’clock at least. Sometimes the luxury of rest is the best there is. I get up and start my 2023 with a sturdy bacon sandwich and more coffee. I reload my drugs wallets for the next two weeks and check my pre Christmas to do list. I am gratified to find that it is complete apart from the arrival of one present that is somewhere still in transit. My new 2023 list is going to be short, very short. Its time to shaky a leg and get out of the house for a while.

I drive my partner and I to the local park where we take a turn around the woods and duck pond. Its good to get out and to begin to move again. There is something that is just primal about being outside and noticing things like the higher water levels in the brooks and streams. After our walk I drive us back and I watch a rugby match on TV whilst nibbling fruit. I have a feeling that I shall do much fruit nibbling in this year.

My afternoon drifts into evening and I find myself doing the last of post Christmas admin. This includes a brief peruse of the Moomin books and comics I got for Christmas. There is something very appealing about the stories. A friend of mine who is a philosopher has been known to quote the Moomins as examples of philosophic argument from time to time. As I say they are more than just nice children’s stories. I’m looking forward to some reading time over the next few days.

The evening slips into His Dark Materials to be followed by Happy Valley. Tomorrow the plan is to go to the gym. I have to start over again post cold and now is the as good a time as any to start. After that there is a poem word count to be done and the steps to publishing to be taken.

Saturday and the last day of the year. It starts with a lazy coffee in bed and the usual Saturday catch up. My partner and I finally get up and have breakfast before going shopping for the evenings Tagine. Once back from the shops we indulge in coffee and pastries. The post has arrived and I have a letter from a friend to read, so more coffee and a quiet moment to read it. Its such a pleasure to get a letter, I hope that receiving mine are met with the same levels of happiness. The writer of the letter suggests I might consider renaming the blog as I might consider that I am more than my cancer. Its a fair point and I intend to give myself some thinking time to consider the issues in this. Having had the letter joy I turn to preparing the Tagine. I find it relaxing to prepare food and especially new dishes. This one includes apricots and olives with a collection of spices so I am hopeful that my palate is going to be excited. Having cleared away the kitchen and set the meal on its way I turn my attention to the herb and spice shelves that are in a random state. I clean, and reorder the shelves, removing duplicates and jettisoning out of date goods. Once satisfied with this I read the gas and electricity meters and submit my readings. God knows what December is going to cost us but I cannot abide the cold, its bad enough facing days where 2 o’clock feels more like 5 o’clock. Its already dark, overcast and raining hard.

I take a break to watch a rugby match and to start drafting the blog before I buckle down to do my tax return, which is in danger of being late. Various friends have sent messages hoping that the coming year is a good one and that to some extent 2022 has been one that many of us have had to survive. I would echo this, it would be good if we all could experience a sense of positive progress over the coming year. For my part I am going to endeavour to be a little calmer and quietly pursue a routine that sees me doing the important things I want to do.

Tax return done I settle down to the Tagine (too acid needed honey in it), and The Last Leg, football and Hootenanny and the drift into the New Year of 2023. Good luck to all of us, see you as soon as possible.