Tuesday, what a night. My Haematuria is back with a vengeance. From 10pm last night till 5 o’clock this morning I lay on the recliner, napping and going to the bathroom to take yet another sample. For hours it seemed that it was not going to stop and then at about 2:30 in the morning it began to show signs of abating. By 5:49 it was all clear. By the morning I’m very tired. I had given myself to 4 o’clock in the morning to show signs of improvement after which I was going to ring the emergency numbers. Fortunately it did not come to that. As usual I took a photo to keep a record of the episode, it does not make good and chatty content but it is the reality of what I am battling at the moment.

By the morning I am clear and vey tired. To add to this i am feeling the effects of yesterdays 28 day jab. Its a perfect storm. Once I surface at about 9 o’clock I start to ring the help lines, the prostate nurses and the emergency helpline. I leave messages at all of them and in due course they come back to me. Some want me to ring else where others say they will return my call. Once called I give the information requested and in return I am promised another call. After some toing an froing. There is a plan: continue taking the Apixaban and monitor myself. If it starts again ring the emergency line again. Ta Da!

While all this is going on my partner and eldest daughter set about getting all the Christmas stuff I did yesterday put away in the loft and garage. I am so pleased that they have done it, I could not have faced it today, or maybe even longer. By early afternoon I am still on the recliner and have competed todays crosswords, which leads me to start drafting the blog. My plan today is to be inert, to do nothing of effort and to drift through the day till it is bed time, when hopefully I will just full asleep. So by then I will have watched a football match and the end of Stranger Things. I did scrawl a brief poem, my tiredness shows in it, but I think it shows I am remaining positive.

486
I can't just sit here
fearing the fear 
of haematuria.
However, rest I must,
lazy and patient.
Sometimes the mixture 
of death and life
appear like a bag
of Pick and Mix,
there is no predicting
the bitter from the sweet.
The taste of life
becomes exotic food,
unrecognisable and knowable
only when tasted. 
Its a better way 
than starvation. 

                                                         486 06-01-2025

This is all for today, I now sink into autopilot until tomorrow arrives.