Tuesday and I wake from another disturbed night. I also wake late so take my time doing my vitals before finally getting up and having breakfast. This is a big day for the builder badgers they have to level everything and take delivery of all the hard core for the front drive and the patio. By the time I am up they well and truly moving the earth but the big grabber has not turned up.
I start to check my emails and find that some poems have come in for Saturdays poetry Stanza meeting, which I file. I send messages to a friend whose daughter is having her tenth birthday today and wish them well and then I set about deciding which, if any, poem I will take to the Stanza. I read through some of my recent stuff and decided I’m not brave enough to go public just yet with some of it so I write one for the meeting inspired by reading my own stuff. This disease I have drives me to be very self obsessed and I feel uncomfortable about that, I think this one almost avoids it, almost!
390
Its Stanza time
and I read through
my latest.
Fuck me they are miserable
and self-obsessed.
I do not really want
to take these to nice people.
I know they are adults,
I’ve read their poetry
And Googled them.
Perhaps this is more;
more me again,
or that life long
career of looking after others
and trying to be useful.
It would be different
had I been a marine biologist,
I’d be all dolphins and whales
and wonders of the
natural world.
I’d write “hello birds and trees”
poetry and wade
in hosts of golden daffodils.
Unfortunately, the mirror
No matter its frame
Reflects the same.
Bugger me, it's me again.
390 14-05-2024.
Not a classic but believe me it’s a more comfortable read than some of the recent stuff, it’s why I’ve called the next collection in the Cancer Years series Some Rough Stuff. I start to read the surprise book I received from a friend yesterday, Yellowface, and soon become engaged with it, who wouldn’t when someone chokes to death in a drunken pancake eating contest. I am distracted by the big grabber that eventually turns up to remove the overnight spoil heap. I watch fascinated like a child and admire the skill of the operator.
Once the big digger is done the badgers get on with making a new pile to be collected this evening, they work all day to create another spoil heap and eventually wave us good bye for the day saying “Big Graber” should return to night to remove the new heap. Apparently tomorrow a load of stone for the foundations arrive and Thursday all the finishing materials arrive. I just hope it all goes to plan. I return to reading Yellowface for a while before starting the blog for the day. So I drift into the evening not knowing if this is to be a TV night, a Rom Com night, a mindlessly violent film night or whether I shall read, however I have an oncology review over the phone some where between on Thursday and I need to think about what I want to ask or know before hand. I’ve spent part of this morning inputting data into my blood pressure and vitals spread sheet so that I can work out my averages over this cycle so far. There has been no change, my blood pressure is still within limits for me and has shown no changes, which is good news. So once again my arithmetic looks good but my subjective feeling is that due to my inability to train I am becoming fatigued and fat, which of course is a vicious circle, but if I train, I risk hematuria due either to my overlooked bladder stone and/or my cancer. Its been five days since I’ve experienced any discomfort and it was the 29th of April that I last noticeably bled so I have no idea what’s going on really. I have moments of being tempted to just get on the rowing machine and see what happens. Perhaps I will wait till after the review. Until then I remain on course with the Americans to do my books and to keep my head in good shape. In the immediate here and now its food, medication and entertainment. Roll on the Olympics.
P.S No sign of big grabber yet I have feeling the badgers maybe very ungruntled in the morning.
