Tuesday and after a reasonable nights sleep I surface and do my early morning checks. I am instantly aware that I am fatigued as I check my messages and news feeds. I check my vitals, which remain stable despite the slightly elevated heart rate. My partner goes to the gym to do aqua aerobics and I make breakfast. As I am late up I go for pizza for breakfast. Having eaten I set about filing my drugs dosettes. It takes more time than usual as the neuropathy in my fingers slows the opening of the pill packets, however I get it done. Because I have delayed the current cycle I am short of one of the steroids I take. I will have about five days short, which I shall either tolerate or get some more if I can face the faff of doig so.

Very little happens after this activity as all I feel able to do is rest and listen to episodes of Just a Minute. The postman delivers my oncology letters, which I file before my partner returns for lunch. It is not long before she is off to see her mother in hospital with her brother. She has a busy schedule as she and her brother are also going to look at another care home. From there she is picking up a friend to go for a meal this evening. On checking my emails I found one from a poetry competition that I had entered. Of course I had not one, in fact I did not even make the “long list”. It is abundantly clear that my poetry is not acceptable and is not in any way aligned with the poetry mainstream or in fact any stream of poetry. Clearly giving poems numbers and regarding tittles as a sign of failure severely hampers my poems ever being competitive. Perhaps the bottom line is that my poetry is just crap, which is not inconceivable. I note that another poetry magazine is open for submissions so I might try and write something for it outside my current series for The Rechallenge collection.

I nibble my way through the afternoon and type odd notes and ideas but nothing coalesces. I am not sure I am functioning well enough to generate anything of interest. I continue to jot stuff and then turn to the blog to daft. A friend rings me as she is out and about doing chores before returning home to do the family tea. I enjoy chatting about our families and what we are currently doing. My evening looms into view. I shall be watching a football match this evening and once again heading for my evening meds and the hope of a good nights sleep.