Tuesday and I wake up late, my partner having gone off to work, out of the house type work. I feel groggy and not sure why but as usual I check my messages and find one from my daughter saying that there is a solicitor’s email saying that probate has been granted on my sisters estate. I get up and check my emails and sure enough there it is in black and white. It means that papers will be with the solicitor in five days. There follows some exchanges of emails between myself and the solicitor about arrangements and the disposal of my sisters house as part of the estate. This all takes time of course. I ring my son on WhatsApp in Sweden and up date him on how things are going. We have a long chat about roofing and concrete water proofing and then the grandchildren. It appears that Swedish bureaucracy is even worse than ours, its taking for ever to get his residency card, citizenship and passport. I clear the kitchen and load Daisy before finally getting myself some toast and a drink. My eldest daughter and I have a long chat while I nibble away at my toast until finally I decide its time to get dressed properly. In fact I have decided to get into my training gear and try and make the effort.

On my way to get changed I go to take my morning meds with what’s left of my coffee and find that I had not taken last nights chemo. It was was the last day in my drugs wallets so I do not know how I missed this. My drugs wallets need filling so I take time out to refill my two wallets that will see me through the next two weeks. Finally I get changed into my training gear and head for the garage. I have not trained for 18 days, unforgivable really but I’ve been away and also feeling overwhelmed by fatigue My PSI score has been under 100 for days now and my fitness age has been going up rapidly on the App. I am determined to get it back to 100, which is considered the healthy level. So I get on the rowing machine and set of for a 45 minute row at the slowest pace I’ve ever rowed at. It is all about my fear of passing blood again, which has contributed greatly to my reluctance to train along side the fatigue. I row steadily for the 45 minutes with the only aim to be to get to the end and to get my hit my PSI 100 point mark. At the end I check my PSI score, its 94. I am disappointed.

I stare at my fitness App on my phone in disbelief and disappointment, I am so irritated with myself. To do more risks passing blood is my thought and then I think “fuck it”, I lower the resistance a notch to level 3 and set off again for another 15 minutes. It goes reasonably well and when the clock runs down I am instantly checking my PSI score.

I check the fitness App and find I have hit a PSI of 119. So I have hit my target. As usual I retreat to the sofa and record my session in my food and exercise journal and the stare into space for a while. I run a bath and when I go for my first post exercise piss I am relieved to see that it is clear and blood free. I have a long , warm bath bomb bath and read more of David Sedaris. Eventually I get out, get dry and throw on my wearable leopards head blanket with the huge kangaroo pocket on the front of it. There are very few if any spoons left to spend so I sit down to draft the blog as the evening drifts towards me. I have a headache so take paracetamol, which is something I am doing more often these days. Today I am not sure if its the lack of food, lack of yesterdays chemo meds, the effort of rowing or the weight of my ponytail. So I shall eat this evening having put the bins out and hopefully read and watch TV, I think the women’s England team are playing tonight. Tonight I will make sure I take my meds before bed. My priority tomorrow is to train again, now I have started again I must keep going. None of this is very exciting but it is the grind that keeps me alive for longer, living with cancer is all about this and finding joy in the everyday. My Michaelmas daisies are coming into bloom.