Monday, I wake to find my partner busy doing yoga, my eldest preparing to go to work. I have time for a muesli breakfast and my meds before I run out of the door, and then run back in realising that I have forgotten my injection kit. I get to the GP surgery and get ushered into the clinical room immediately. This month is the right side of my gut and for good measure I get a B12 jab in the left arm. The actual jabbing goes okay but in the after chat I discover that my nice, considerate and thoughtful nurse is retiring and will not be there next time. This is a blow as my injections have been more bearable due to her careful administration. I just hope her replacement does not turn out to be a ham fisted javelin thrower. I drive home and immediately settle down to creating a training PowerPoint for some training delivery in a couple of weeks time. I beaver away all morning until my partner suggests a lunch time walk. We take a parcel for Shri Lanka to the post office and then wander around the village, bumping into my partners brother on the way. We chat for a while and then move on to lunch at home and a crossword to do. I prepare more training slides and send them off to the organiser and my fellow tutor. Its time to train so I change and head for the garage to row for half an hour.

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I record my session and then change before settling down for the evening in which “Only connect” and “University Challenge” will demonstrate my ignorance, although I do get an occasional synaptic out burst which produces a right answer. I shall spend the rest of my evening writing the blog and preparing to observe a training session tomorrow.

Saturday: time to breakfast and to organise, to do chores and to prepare to eat out tonight, but first there is a trip to the gym. Yes to the gym for the first time in over two years. I drive the family there so that my eldest daughter can have her hair done and I can spend time on a cross trainer. 46 minutes to shed 500 calories, not bad after such a long lay off. I spend a bit of time on a weights machine and then donning swimwear I spend ten glorious hot minutes in the steam room. A shower other than my own is a real pleasure and then its into the old club room.

Feeling fresh and clean we return home to prepare for our evening meal with friends. The meal is splendid and full of care and good conversation as it should be between friends. There was the slight distraction for a while of Radacanu the 18 year old wonder girl of tennis winning the US Open tennis championship. We chat until midnight when I drive us home to finally get some sleep.

Sunday, and I weigh in first thing. 95.4 kilos a drop of 0.1 kilos, I am so disappointed after this weeks efforts. I wonder if this is a test of some sort, but that way lay madness. A simple breakfast of eggs and then we make the face time call to our youngest daughter who is recovering from a cold but in relatively good form. Once done its time for me to climb into my “work clothes” and head for the garden with a Hippo bag. I spend some tine clearing the garden and the patio of all the unwanted old sun shades and seed trays before adding the ancient crockery sets and bed linen that is no longer required. With everything stowed that we want to get rid of I cover the bag and secure it. I return to the garden and begin to trim it for winter. I make a reasonable start. By the end of the afternoon, with beds freshly made, non garden kind, my partner adn I sit on the swing seat and watch the squirrels chase each other as a robin sits in the garden and sings to us. We return to our chores, I start to write the blog from yesterday and today. Today is a prophylactic paracetamol day as tomorrow is my 28 day injection coupled this month with a B12 jab. If things go as usual then I’m going to be sore for at least two days and not particularly chipper. I watch Harry Potter films to remind me that good wins in the end. Its a kind of magic of which, Dumbledore reminds us, words are the greatest of all.

Its Friday and it was another bed hopping night to try and get comfortable but as my partner pops out early to get a blood test I start a bacon bagel and coffee. She is back before my bacon is cooked. I dine in front of the TV telling me an 18 year old just got to the US open tennis tournament. I put my washing away and start to prepare some teaching materials. Thank goodness for Power point, in my creative hands its an art form. I beaver away till 11 o’clock when I have a Teams meeting with a manager of several services. It is one of those meetings that is a joy. Positive, constructive and productive. I come away with some useful things to do, an ally and a way forward at the next big meeting with senior managers. So I work till lunch time before taking a walk to the chemist to pick up my months drug supply. I am with my partner so we take a turn around the village and find a friend who had won second prize in the village scarecrow competition with his Gruffalo. We stand and chat to him with his wife for a while and agree to find a date to eat together. We return home, I have a light lunch and retreat to the Shed to write letters before I miss the post collection.

Its the moment in the day when I have to decide to get out of my clothes and into my training kit. It is this moment that at times trips me up. I make the effort and change. I get into the garage and set myself up to row for an hour at a reasonable resistance level so I know I’m going to be in for a tough session. I was right but it was made easier by a friend ringing me mid way through and by the miracle of blue tooth headphones I was able to take the call and chat for a while. An end of week conversation, ending the week and starting the weekend. I row through the conversation and when I’ve said goodbye the radio returns to my ears. Steve Wrights Serious Jokin’. I press on until that last few minutes that determine whether I break the 14 kilometre barrier or not. I push, I do, I ‘m knackered.

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I get to my sofa and record the session. I change into evening “lazers” and watch TV while my partner prepares pizza and wrestles with the aggravation of trying to sort out the bed of nettles that providing home care for her mother has turned out to be. More NCIS and then Jesse Stone while I write the blog. The weekend beckons, dinner with friends, perhaps the gym, the Sunday weigh in, perhaps some mattress shopping.

Thursday and I was right, it was a poor nights sleep and I wake in the spare room bed as it has a harder mattress. So I take a deep breath and prepare to get through the day. I note that I’m saying “get through” and that seems to reflect how I am, I am clearly seeing the day as something to be survived, so things need to change to more of what brings me joy, however now there are meetings to go to.

The meeting goes okay, its good to be able to catch up with colleagues. The downside of doing everything remotely is that it makes me feel remote. As I said to a colleague is does not bring me as much joy as it used to. At the end of the meeting I book a service for the house alarm system and put my washing in to do. I send photos of my DBS certificate to CQC and have a sort through the growing pile of life admin that has stacked up on the end of the sofa. I should explain that the end of the sofa is my office. Its where my wi-fi is other wise I would be in the Shed. The post arrives and brings me this years supervisor register certificate and my oncologists letter to the GP.

The oncologist letter is straight forward and just says they will test my PSA in December and if it has doubled they will offer me a new treatment. The new treatment comes with steroids, which I am not keen on. This is an incentive to keep my PSA down but I’m not sure if this is in my control. All I can do is train, diet and be persistent. Time for a lunch time smoothie. I confirm tomorrows meetings and then check my to do lists. Time to train, today its the bike so I change and head for the Shed. I make it through the hour and do a reasonable distance.

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I record my training session and then head for the bathroom. There is something deliciously self indulgent about a late afternoon bath complete with bath bomb. As I prepare the bath and slip into it a friend calls who I’ve not spoken to for a while. The real world out there is doing things like getting children back to school and working so its good to hear how that it is going. As I chat and soak I am asked if I will give my eldest a lift to circus school, I agree and continue my afternoon pampering. So pedicured, manicured and smelling delicious I emerge from the bathroom to become taxi man. So I drive my daughter to the circus school and wait in the car for the hour reading The Fourth Shore. Its not getting any better, despite a rape, catholic guilt and and chronologically jumbled story line. I shall finish it but I’m not sure I will read the other book by her. I am saved by my returning daughter. We go home and eat tuna pasta while my partner has her singing lesson. There is athletics TV while I write the blog and my basket of freshly dried washing waits to be sorted and put away. Always the mundane hovers and trivia lurks to take the eye of the important things.

Wednesday and yet again the sun shines and yet again I spent last night in two beds in an effort to get a nights sleep. So I wake up irritable and mutter to myself as I empty the dishwasher to get a cereal bowl before I can have breakfast. I note that my eldest daughter has gone for her second jab. I eat breakfast in front of the TV and down my daily drugs and check my emails. I prepare for an Elders meeting.

Elders meeting done, always good to see the group but today there were only four of us, one wonders why. Some admin to do and some chores before I train. I row for half an hour,and it goes okay.

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My evening was football on the sofa surrounded by family, before I crawl off to bed for a disturbed nights sleep, once again I change bed to be on a harder mattress.

Tuesday, its sunny again so I get up and munch muesli for breakfast and check my emails. I book my next 28 day injection appointment and order a side of B12 to go with it. I also order my monthly drug supply. After some class prevarication I get into my training gear and head for the Shed. I’ve decided to crack my low motivation by getting on the bike. I need to break any pattern related to training so I go for the bike today even though I have not used it lately as it might have contributed to my PSA rise. It has also been know for me to pass blood after a tough bike session, which adds to my anxiety about the bike. I clamber onto the bike,strap my aerobic training mask on my face and get going. An hour later I have completed my session and start to fill the pond in the garden as its got low in the heat.

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Time for a shower then lunch, chicken soup. So time to go for a piss, first after training on the bike. No blood. That makes my mind up to use the bike in my future training programme. I ‘ve not got time to dawdle as I have a meeting at 2pm and set about doing some admin work for the meeting. At 2 o’clock I am sat in front of my laptop greeting colleagues. For the next three hours we work away in a new era of new management, new priorities. By the end I am hot and tired but complete one or two tasks related to our conversations. By this time my garden guy has arrived so I go to see him and we chat about the Iris bed he is preparing. I’m moving some of my ancient Iris’s to the front garden where they will get more sun.

I watch some south american football before tea and then settle down to write the blog. The evening will stretch out before me,my only aim will be to get a decent nights sleep and put the bins out.

Monday after a bad nights sleep, muesli breakfast and then I am off to the Shed. I spend my day writing letters. By the end of the afternoon five letters are posted. Then its time to read, eat a simple tea, read some more and then watch some TV before writing the blog. I’ve still not trained today as I still feel off, perhaps tomorrow. A simple day, during which I kept busy.

Saturday and its party day. Today is the day that my partners mother is having her 93rd birthday party. So after a croissant breakfast the family, including my youngest daughter and her fiance, pack the cars with finger rolls, chocolate cake and nibbles. When my partners brother arrives we drive off to surprise the birthday party girl. It all goes to plan, we arrive, other family members arrive, we prepare the spread and settle into party mode. We are taken aback to hear from the carer that the party girl had had one of her turns last evening which meant calling out the para medic for a check over. Party girl did not want to go to hospital to be checked again and signed a waiver to stay put. We party on with one of my nephew’s son demonstrating very good IT skills on his “big blue telephone”, which was in fact a tablet. His generation is growing up in a vastly different world than I did but then I guess that is always the way for each generation. He does however swim, climb and do karate so I guess the physical element is still there for many of the young still. There is candle blowing, cake cutting and strawberry and cream indulgence as there are multiple conversations between family members as we catch up with each other. Its a typical family gathering, generation on generation and that unspoken recognition of blood and connection. Somehow we are inter connected but it is not always obvious how this works,its more of an identification and an acknowledgements of the obligations between us.

It comes time to pack away the goodies and to load up the cars again to depart. We say our farewells and return home. I drop my partners brother home and return to a quiet house thinking about an evening meal. We settle on fish and chips from the local chippy and having indulged the family settles down in the lounge to watch “Rhapsody” the story of Queen and Freddie Mercury. Brilliantly acted and of course the music was excellent. I did make me wonder if Freddie Mercury was in fact a bi sexual who like many get told they are gay and are not allowed to be themselves by those around them. I guess there will be no knowing. The family drift off to bed and I watch the Guardians of the Galaxy, mainly to reacquaint myself with Rocket the my mental avatar for the fight against my cancer. A reassembled Racoon with violent and antisocial tendencies who fights unreservedly. I chose well.

Sunday and its up with coffee and a weigh in. Its another disaster; 95.5 kilos, an increase in weight. I really must get a grip of my food intake and exercise. We go to the garden centre to buy vegetables and chicken for lunch today. Once home we have a bagel breakfast and set about our lazy Sunday morning. I have a long chat with my eldest daughter about the aggravations of work and study and then scrabble about in the loft to retrieve our old but very solid plastic suitcases. They and some packing cases are going back with my youngest and her fiance to aid them in their preparation for moving into their new home when their new house finally goes thorough. The process is gradually getting there. In no time at all its time for lunch, a Sunday special. We sit on the patio in rare and welcome sunshine, eating and chatting. Its another good family day when plans for the future get shared and discussed. Its a big lunch and requires a lazy coffee to assist digestion and more time to talk. Eventually the youngest’s fiance takes on the challenge of packing all the borrowed suitcases into the small Toyota Aygo (named Hero). To collective amazement he succeeds and we go out to admire his work and wave them good bye. In my head I think I should train but I am feeling lethargic and listless and will content myself with poisoning weeds on the patio before watching England play a world cup qualifying football match and then Vigil, the latest BBC Sunday night drama. Tomorrow I need to get my head straight, write the words that are filling me up and train. I have to find the energy from somewhere to be consistent in my training and my diet. It feels like everything is distant, slipping out of reach, like the swimmer working against the tide which will not turn. Now is the time, this is the instant to defy the odds, to focus and do the work that makes hope possible.

Friday the third day of Autumn and the second anniversary of me starting chemotherapy, so we are off to Ragdale Spa for a day of pampering and relaxation. A breakfast of marmalade bagel and coffee, quite Paddington really, and we are up and away by nine o’clock. The spa is quite close to us so we are soon collecting our soft white bathrobes and locker keys. The first place we always go is always the out door spar pool where the water is warm and there is that unique feeling of being warm in water outside. I feel like those monkeys that bath in warm springs in the middle of winter with snow laying around. Always a good place for a chat. A quick rub down and then into the salt steam room followed by the candle lit pool and then into the sauna. I really like the sauna its the first time in weeks that I have actually been warm. Time for coffee before I go off for my massage and facial. It is truly wonderful to have someone smooth you with oil and then kneed knotted muscles into relaxation. So much to thank the Romans for.

Even though I have a beard I was able to get a facial. Now I am fascinated by the facial. So many oils, creams and emoluments applied with clothes, sponges, warm flannels and finger tips. What happened to washing your face and getting on with life. I used to work with a woman who was an Avon representative who would wander into the office with bags of chemical stuff and shout to her clients “Your shit for your face is here”. She would then deliver bags to the desks of her colleagues. What amazed me was how her business boomed and boasted many regular customers, goes to show what the truth can do. I never noticed any of the buyers looking any younger, less wrinkled, smoother or rejuvenated, but I give them their due they were persistent, much to the profit of “shit for your face ” woman.

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Once I had recovered from my rub down with an oily rag and face creaming I indulged in a fresh orange juice while waiting for my partner to emerge. We head for lunch where I indulge in red pepper humus and gammon followed by the worlds smallest portion of berry crumble and custard. We retire to the retreat bar and sip post dinner coffee on a very comfortable sofa. Time slips by and we head for the swimming pool to read whilst lazing on a sun lounger. Before I know it four thirty had rolled round so I headed for the sauna for one last time while my partner swam. I repeat that I love saunas. By the time we have showered and changed its time for one last drink and something to nibble before the drive home. We pay our bill and go home feeling chilled. Once home I unload my bag and start to write the blog and realiser that I have not given them their magic locker key band back!

I guess I will be mailing it back to them. Home to the blog and a wait for my youngest daughter and her fiance to arrive. While I blog I reflect on the two years that have past from that first day in September 2019 when I was hooked up to an IV for the first time and unexpectedly told I would have to self inject into my stomach area five times every one of the six cycles. I started this blog to try and keep control of the process but more importantly as a way of telling friends and family how I am and what was happening to me. Perhaps also to save people needing to ask when it might feels awkward, I’m not sure how successful it has been but it has helped me to not avoid the tricky issues. It has also made me keep tabs on myself and to keep some sort of focus. It is easy to slip into forgetting and letting the cancer institutionalise me. I’ve had moments of forgetting that I have limited time and let some things slip by me, but by and large I think I’ve managed to stay focussed on the important stuff. I have realised that the blog is very ordinary at times but that is the dilemma. Ordinary life carries on and if I choose to keep engaged then there are times when my blog is just my ordinary life and cancer appears not to be there, however it is always there and that’s the trap. Its that permanence that can fool me into thinking that it is not there. Its in there trying to kill me 24/7/365 so the battle has to be constant and it is this that is tiring. This is how I ended my blog two years ago:

“I end my day cooking curry for the family, taking more drugs, finishing a box of maltezers, drinking three pints of water, watching TV and then settling down to write todays blog. I’m tired and my dyslexia is having a field day. I have yet to get spell check hooked into my system. I am aware that at the moment this blog is all words when my natural urge is to include pictures and pretty things. These are skill I have yet to learn but I hope to soon be able to do more for all of you who take the time and trouble to read my journey. Please feel free to comment, make suggestions and to share this blog with anyone who you think might get something from it. Good night.”

I think my message is probably still close to the above although I hope the blog is now prettier and more visually stimulating. Good night.

Thursday and the second day of autumn. Its up for breakfast with my partner and so Saturday planing and shopping list construction to be done. I get washing in to do and then we go to shop for weekend food. It’s a while since we have shopped on any scale at our local supermarket. Of course it means we can compare the prices with the chain that provide our delivery. It is interesting to see how big a discrepancy there is between some of the prices for the same goods. We gather what we need and head home. I’ve acquired a runny nose and get some Actifed down me, which traditionally works for me. No temperature. After doing some admin work I do a rapid flow test. Negative, so I am not COVID infested. My washing is now dry so I set about putting it away and clearing away my clothes from the spare room so that my youngest daughter and boyfriend can settle in tomorrow when they arrive. I get a call from a friend and have a long chat about all sorts of things from work to domestic chores. I get myself ready to train and attend to my nail needs before setting off to the garage to train. I was going to bike today but swapped to the rower at a higher resistance. It turned out to be hard session as my body was remembering the effort it made yesterday.

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As soon as I am changed post training I get my eldest daughter in the car and give her a lift to her flying fitness session. While she is learning new skills I sit in the car and read The Fourth Shore by Virginia Bailey for just over and hour. I suspect that I may have fallen asleep for a while as I’m not finding the read one that grips me, but I will persevere, after all I am going to meet the author in November so it feels only fair to make an effort. I get home to find my partner in mid singing lesson so I crack on and make my favourite tuna past and settle down to watch England beat Hungary 4-0 in a word cup qualifier match. For me it is the blog next against the background of TV news. One item makes me incensed, it is of course the bloody Americans, Texans to be precise and their new law that makes abortion for any reason after six weeks illegal. The pernicious self righteous religionist right wing is a cancer that champions ignorance and superstition as a life choice and style, and America has it in abundance. Tomorrow is a spar day, all I want is a massage and time in a steam room to forget that Texas exists and to celebrate the second anniversary of my first chemotherapy.