Saturday and I wake knowing this has to be a training day. So I am up and into my training. I have my morning meds and and scrambled eggs. A new oncology appointment arrives as does a bloods form. This time it is to be a short interval of four weeks so the 25th of June is to be the magic day with bloods a few days earlier. I go to the garage and get on board the rowing machine, today has to be an hours row. I get my ear buds in and get set for the off. The start is slow, perhaps too slow but I get into a comfortable pace as the training music track picks up speed. Although I do not make 12 kilometres the distance I do make is okay as is the 700+ calories that I burn.

I record my session and then watch a rugby match on TV, my local team is playing to get into the end of season play offs, which they do comfortably. I get out of my kit and then cook tea, a chicken stroganoff with turmeric rice, which I serve to the family in time to watch the series finale of Dr Who and then move on to the European cup final. I got bored with that by half time and watch a couple of episodes of Rabbit hole before taking my night meds, clearing the aftermath of my cooking and going to bed. Another mundane day but one in which I feel anxiety rumbling around about my cancer, its a long since I have been reviewed on a months gap and I wonder just how concerned my oncologist is about my PSA rising for a second time in five months, clearly enough to want to scan me again and see me face to ace in four weeks. Maybe its nothing, a lot can happen between now and the 25th of June.

Sunday and my partner has gone to the gym leaving my to do my vitals (a good set today) and to have breakfast and meds before settling down with my laptop to try and sort out my Netflix account. I try to log into my account on the TV, which takes me to a verification code on my phone as it recognises my phone number but not my email address. What’s more it takes me to a verification page in Spanish! I have no joy, so I sit and think for a while. I try to login with my phone number but does not recognise my email address and tells me no account belongs to this address. When I try to log in again I use my telephone number and ask for a verification code by SMS. Bingo I am suddenly into an account but one that has a totally different email address from me but it has my debit card as the preferred method of payment. Bloody cheek! I cancel the subscription but I am told it will not take effect until the 29th of June as Netflix is clearly wanting to collect the months fee. I try to clear the card from the account but it will not do it only offer me the opportunity to put an alternative way to pay on the account. I look at the profile page and find the name of the person with the account is Luizmary Perez and there is an email sign in for the account to her. She has put at least four other profiles on the account, which I delete. So in theory the account is closed and all by Perez profile is gone. I send the email address an email just saying I know that she stole my account and card and not to do it again. I am a man with a particular set of skills, I felt like adding. With that done of course I rang my bank and got through to a really nice chap at the security branch who checked my details and confirmed my identity and blocked my card. A new one will be with me soon and its details on my banking app. He was also able to block any future subscriptions to Netflix for a period of time. So by the time I had worked my way through all of this it was mid afternoon. I breathed a sigh of relief and settled back to a sandwich and an apple.

I had also removed the email address I had used to send my “I know what you did ” email and as a consequence had managed to lose all my diary entries on my phone. There followed a period of extreme NSG (nonspecific grumpiness) as I wrestled with the IT on my phone to retrieve all the diary entries on my phone. I finally got there much to my relief. What it did do for me was make me realise how some of my bits of IT are interlinked, which was a bit of a nasty shock. I am clearly more ignorant than I thought about the IT in my life. Having over come my IT nightmare I read in my newsfeed that Netflix has recently been hacked and account holders data been stolen, this the Guardian reported 3 days ago so it would appear that I was one of those who had been affected, which is why my account would not recognise me and the software kept coming up in Spanish. Its this sort of thing that makes me want to hide cash under the mattress and only communicate by letter and Pidgeon. The garden guy has turned up and mown the grass and dug things but I hardly notice having spent my time wrestling with the murky world of cyber security.

I am looking forward to an evening of a final episode of Rabbit Hole and the good old fashion feel of a paper book to read. There will of course be the last minute adjustment to the Tesco order before night meds, donning the night finger splint and restacking the dishwasher. But at least I can enjoy the flowers in my garden and know that no one is watching Netflix on my money.