Friday and I have no meetings so I attend to my emails and messages before getting up. When I do I have a muesli breakfast and clear the kitchen. I decide to go to the gym and get a cross training session in before I go to London tomorrow. On the way I prep the car for tomorrows journey. and then arrive at the gym. I go through my usual routine of changing and finding a machine and then put in an hour session. I burn 707calories over 7.63 kilometres. That’s a reasonable session at this time in my cycle. I spend some additional time on the weights machines, I have neglected my core recently and need to add to my aerobic programme.

I shower and settle in the lounge with a coffee as I wait for my omelette to arrive. I send some messages, eat my food adn then leave for home. On the way I pick up chocolates and drink to take to tomorrows reunion. Once home I dump my training kit and make a couple of work calls. Once I have the work stuff done I check the bird feeders and the squirrel box filling both. I also check the hedgehog canteen but none of the food has been taken so I guess my Schrodinger hog is just that at the moment. I relax with a coffee and do the days crosswords. And so my day bleeds into the evening with an Indian takeaway and TV until I am on my own with the blog and Jason Bourne.

I doubt there will be time to write a blog tomorrow, Saturday. So tomorrow is an adventure in the capital, and I wonder if meeting people again will be as pleasurable as it was meeting them for the first time.

Thursday 8:45 and in 15 I’m due in a meeting. Me the screen and a coffee dead on 9 o’clock. I spend two hours in the meeting and talking with colleagues. It productive and also a good connection. Once I am off screen I do some work admin and then settle down to a dish of chicken soup. My partner and I go for a stroll round the village to pick up a paper and grapes before a light lunch. Just a normal day in the life of a prost8kancerman. Its so normal as to be surreal.

I have an energy spurt, rare recently, and before I know it I am changed into work clothes and I out on the drive cleaning the cars. The cars have become so dirty it is difficult to remember what colours they actually are. After a prolonged splashing and sploshing, drying and shining they are done. I finish the finer details and then I change and head for the sofa and a football match. Dinner comes around my favourite Thursday tuna pasta. Normally I slip into an evening of tired TV but tonight as my partner does her singing lesson I bite the bullet, change into my training kit and head for the garage to row for half an hour. Its a real effort but I keep reminding myself that cancer doesn’t take a day off so I can’t, stick to the plan is the plan.

I finish the session, record it and then get sofa’d to watch the end episodes of Stay Closer, while I write the blog.

Wednesday and my partner brings me an early coffee to get me moving. I check my mail and messages. I finally get up, pack my training kit and have another coffee to take my medication with. Then I am off to the gym. I get my usual locker and get on to the gym floor. There are very few of us so I have my pick of machines. I choose my favourite cross trainer, select random on my i-pod and begin my session. The time goes quickly and before I know it I have burnt 701 calories and travelled 6.45 kilometres. The speed with which the hour has passed feels like a sign that my fitness is improving. At the end of the cross training I spend some times working my upper body on the weights machines. I shower and retreat to the club lounge to drink coffee and eat an omelette. I discover that the work meeting that I was due to attend at 2 o’clock has been cancelled due to the chairs illness. The result is that I can be more relaxed for the rest of the day.

I drive home via Sainsburys and pick up some food to top up our fridge after Tesco failed to provide some items at the last delivery. Once home I unpack my kit and sort the days post. I have a new bone scan appointment in February, which I log and put in the diary. I make coffee and take my letter to the Shed to read. I settle down to read when I get a call from a friend who is tending her allotment. We talk about the various family issues related to illness that we are both experiencing. After the call I return to my letter. I write a couple of poems. These came as a bit of a surprise but very timely. The writing course reunion is on Saturday and the host has said that she is looking forward to hearing what we have written since the course. Up until today I had written nothing new apart from letters so my poetry spurt today is welcome. My time has been spent preparing old work for competition and for the poetry coyotes next video.

Night falls and I return to the house and do some work admin. Then there is early evening TV, dinner and football before I start on the blog. Tomorrow starts with a work meeting and then I shall train at the gym. Beyond that the Real World will nag me to do my tax return and wash the cars. Now there is a challenge for the back to work fantasy world of Boris.

Tuesday and once again I wake sluggishly so I go through my emails and messages while in bed as I realise that my partner had gone out and my eldest daughter had gone to work. I get finally get up and have breakfast before putting my washing in the machine and head for the Shed. I spend all morning writing letters. It is cold this morning and it takes a while for the Shed to warm up. I get to lunchtime and my partner adn I walk the village, post my letters and get some birthday cards. We eat lunch together before my partner returns to work and I fold up my washing to put away and change into my training kit. I get a call from a friend who is cat wrangling hers to the vets for blood tests. Whenever I have these sort of conversations it pushes my fantasy about being a dog owner further into the distance.

I head to the garage, mount the rower and set off for an hours row. The garage is cold so I am in full track suit to start with. The session goes surprisingly well and I get into it. An hour later I’ve done a 15 kilometre row, and it feels good.

I return to the house to record my session, eat peanut butter and change into some comfortable clothes for the evening. I slump in front of the TV to watch the world bowls tournament. There is something strangely calming watching mostly old white blokes bowling oval shaped balls down a carpet towards a small white ball to see who can get closest. Dinner and the evening begins, my plan was to watch a football match and then read but I get an email from our next Saturday night host who casually mentions that she is looking forward to seeing us all again and is also looking forward to hearing what we have written since the Arvon course we all went on in November. I am panicking as I have written nothing new since the course. I shall of course find something in myself to take. I have a fantasy that we will become the “Muswell Hill Group” like the Bloomsbury Group, although it is a talented group I wonder if there is a Virginia Woolf, Lytton Stacey or Vanessa Bell amongst us, or even a Vita Sackville-West. Who knows we might even end up with our own Hogarth Press. So I shall watch football and see if inspiration strikes, preferable with something that I can perform. Tomorrow , the gym, work meeting and inspiration seeking.

Monday, and as much I wish I leapt from my bed feeling full of energy and raring to go, I did not. I slugged it out of bed by 9 o’clock and got myself ready to go to the gym but not before clearing the kitchen and emptying the dish washer. I dawdled a while taking a call from a friend who continues to juggle the threat of COVID with a young family and battle with her own long COVID. It is going to be a long haul to retrieve the way of life in which we all thrived before COVID and recover our wellbeing. I then headed for the gym not bothering with breakfast as I train better on an empty stomach.

I get to the gym, buy a bottle of water as usual and then get changed. Its a cross training day so I get on board and start the session. Rammstein sounding extra good this morning and I hit a good groove from the off. Sixty five minutes later and I’m the proud owner of a new personal best. I’m through the 9 kilometres barrier. I go for a shower and then sit in the lounge with a large coffee and an omelette. I like this late breakfast post training, I might do it again.

Back home I go to the Shed but first I check the new hedgehog canteen. I replace the feeding plate and replace with discrete dishes so I can accurately tell what, if anything is being eaten and when. I settle into the Shed, light candles and write letters. I sit happy in my now more well lit Shed until my partner rings me to discuss the evening meal. I close up the Shed and return to the house to do the days crosswords. Dinner follows along with a Tesco delivery. Once everything is stowed we settle down to a couple of episodes of Stay Close but I become disenchanted with the plot line and start to write the blog. I have some things to catch up on, not least reading and watching my new Cirque Du Soleil DVD. Perhaps I shall get round to them soon, they look good.

• 

• 

Tomorrow is a day for being at home, training in the garage and writing in the Shed. There is a therapeutic community review to prepare for as well and some work meetings. It feels that the knack is to avoid treating things as chores or tasks to be done and ticked off and being satisfied with what I get done and not regret that which doesn’t as there is very little that actually is earth shattering.

Sunday and its weigh in day. I wake about 10 o’clock and get myself off to the scales. I step up and look down in hope.

93.5 Kilos. a decrease of

2 kilos.

I am so relieved that I have lost weight. It means that even with my new medication I can control an important element in my fitness and wellness. It provides me with motivation to keep going. So tomorrow I resume training.

The rest of my day was all rest and chocolate. I did nothing meaningful beyond filling the bird feeders, filling the squirrel feeder, checking the hedgehog canteen and checking the garden camera. No pictures of the hedgehogs but the camera was not in the best place. I reorganise the camera and re-site it. I will check the canteen again and see if my impression that the “insect crumble” has been eaten.

For the rest of the day I lazed, ate chocolate, ate a good dinner, did the Tesco order and watched rugby until the evening when I cleared the kitchen and wrote the blog. I deliciously did nothing intellectual, no reading, no writing, nothing creative, in fact a day of complete slobbery. Tomorrow the grind resumes, so I will be of to the gym in the morning and then to the Shed.

Friday and today my partner and daughter are off to London to see Cirque Du Soleil, but first there is a work meeting to do. A session with one of my services, it goes well as the people there are positive and engaged. As soon as I log off I do the taxi run to the station and drop my partner and eldest daughter off to get their train. I drive to the gym and do an hour on the cross trainer. Its a very tired session and I just about manage to burn 687 calories over 7.12 kilometres. A warm shower and I sit in the club lounge to drink coffee and to eat a chicken fajita salad. I’m feeling very tired at the end of what has been a long training and dieting week. I get myself home and watch rugby while I wait for my new fitness tracker to arrive. It arrives and I am like a kid with a new toy. Like all new toys it takes up my time as I learn its secrets. I finally strap it on and begin a new relationship with a gadget.

I while away the rest of my evening by clearing the kitchen and watching more episodes of the Witcher until its time to take my drugs and take myself to bed. Once in bed I cannot sleep and at one point seriously consider getting up again but persevere until I guess that I finally fall asleep.

Saturday and I finally wake up about 10 o’clock. It again seems that my best time to sleep is in the morning. I look at my new fitness tracker and I am very surprised to see that I apparently I slept for more than 9 hours. I do not think my new gadget can tell the difference between sleep and staring into the darkness. I have breakfast and then put the evening meal into the slow cooker, so by the magic of kitchen gadgets there will be a meal ready in the evening. I settle down to watch the midday football game, which is going well when Amazon unexpectedly deliver my new hedgehog feeding station/house. Rather than bugger about with some sort of home made contraption made from bricks and a cat bed turned upside down I’ve bought a properly constructed feeding box.

• 

• 

I put some of the dry Prickles hedgehog food on a plate inside the house and place the box next to the point where my hedgehog has housed itself in my green house. I also put out a shallow dish of water nearby. Tomorrow I shall check the camera to see if the hedgehog has been out and about or whether its going to sleep through for longer. From now on I need to check the camera regularly and heck on the canteen to see if any of the food is being eaten. I return to watching rugby until its time to go and collect my partner and eldest daughter from the station. It goes well, drive in easy, short wait and speedy return. We watch our local rugby team win narrowly over an Irish team in the European competition. Game over I go to train in the garage. I row for half an hour. It is a painful and tired session, the last of the week and I am feeling it.

I return from the garage, change and settle down to eat the meal that was put in the slow cooker in the morning. It is very welcome. There is more TV during the evening and I have time to look at the presents that have been brought for me in London.

All of this week comes to nothing if tomorrow when I weigh myself in there is no weight loss. It would be nice to see at least some decrease even if its small. It feels as if I am working against more things at the moment. My anxiety is that my new medication is going to make it more difficult for me to control my weight. It is one of the few things that I feel I have some control over that might affect my cancers progress or not. I can indulge in all sorts of intellectual activities and become different things, like the poetry coyote, but I know that none of this will alter the cell chemistry that is nibbling away at me. It raises the issues of what quality of life actually means to me. It is a question that I return to over and over as things change but there are anchors that fix me and provide the stability. Every one of the anchors are people or people related, but its a fine balance between time to be with them and the time I need to think, reflect and create.

Thursday. I wake ten minutes before my first meeting of the day, so its a quick coffee and in front of the laptop. Good to see people and catch up. It feels that the world is slowly waking up and in due course it will be possible to meet as real people again in the Real World. So it passes pleasantly and at the end I take a few minutes to catch up with a colleague that shares my interest in football, rugby and tax returns. There is admin to do post meeting. I also grab a round of peanut butter toast and coffee as there had been no time before the meeting. There then followed a period of frustration as I wrestle with my Fitbit that refuses to charge. No matter what I do I cannot get the dead thing to charge. I of course go to Amazon and find myself a new one, which with luck will be with me tomorrow. Feeling pleased with myself I am further encouraged by the arrival of the Amazon man. He delivers my new inspection lamp that is going to illuminate the Shed. I open it and of course its broken. The bulb is in pieces. Luckily I have anticipated this and have spares. A few minutes later and a new bulb is in place and I have found the hooks I need to put it in place. However there things to do first. I get my training kit together and load it in the car along with the dead Dyson that needs to go to the recycling centre.

I get to the recycling centre and queue for a few minutes before being directed to bay 18. I deposit the dead Dyson down with the other “small electrical goods” in the giant skip. Then I’m off to the gym, buying my usual large bottle of water at the bar and head for the changing rooms. I’m up on a cross trainer and treading out another hours worth of calories. 705 today over 7.62 kilometres. I Shower and head for the lounge and on the way take a phone call from a friend. The world is busy and everyone seems to be engaged in organising and restructuring life. I get up to go to the bar and have a light headed moment so I add an omelette to my black coffee and rest a while in the comfort of a large chair. I guess sometime the battle takes its toll, Rocket would be proud. Once feeling chipper again I drive home.

The kit gets put in the washing basket, and then I get a small weekend case out of the loft for my partners trip to London tomorrow. I take the new lamp to the Shed and install it so that the Shed is now better lit. It will make spending time working in the Shed that much easier. I return to the house and clear the kitchen by which time I am feeling tired. I watch ancient TV till my favourite tuna pasta dinner appears. My partner expresses doubt about the wisdom of driving to London and back in a single day next weekend. I look at where we are going and book the nearest hotel. My partner reads the reviews. The reviews say and is concerned that they say the hotel is dirty. There is a frank exchange of views before she goes to her singing lesson and I watch the Witcher. I cancel the hotel booking, my partner can find better.

I spend my evening writing the blog and Witchering. I take time out to search Amazon for a hedgehog feeding station, which I find several of. I read all the reviews and choose very carefully, I’m clearly better at choosing hedgehog shelters than hotels. More Witcher then drugs and bed. I’m tired.

Wednesday and its an Elders meeting day, so I am up and breakfasting fairly quickly once I am up. I have some work admin to do and emails to check. I find a receipt for my entry fee for the Kent and Sussex Poetry Society poetry competition. That’s two competitions that I have entered now. Only winners will get notified so I am expecting to drift in in to 2022 in silence. I have the feeling that I should have just torn up a couple of twenty pound notes and got on with life. Anyway its done now. I fill my drugs wallets for the next two weeks, one of my fortnightly rituals. Eleven o’clock rolls round and I Zoom in to the Elders meeting. There is a new face and some bad news from someone who I write to. The meeting pursues its project goals and we meander to the conclusion. The meeting ends with “leave meeting” clicks, and that’s it. All that stays with me is a friends news. I need to write.

Its lunchtime and I stop for soup. I start to run through my poem files and select out the “hotel and restaurant” poems. They are going to be the next poetry coyote video. I find I have quite a lot and will need to edit them before I record. What I have learnt is that none of the poems I use on my YouTube cannot be used in any competitions. Another reason why I prefer to use the YouTube channel and ignore the poetry industry. A work for a while, clear the kitchen and then get into my training kit. What I cannot get to work properly are a pair of ear buds. The buds work but my ears just cannot keep them in. I wanted to be able to train in them but it is going to be hopeless. As I listen to some music my phone rings and the call pops up in my ear buds, the caller can hear me, I am surprised, such a bummer that my ears cannot keep the buds in. We have a chat and talk about what we are doing and how things are panning out with COVID and our current plans. Its a real pleasure to be able to chat, but the Real World calls and there are children to be collected and training sessions to be done.

I head for the garage having abandoned my buds and reverted to my head phones. I strap my feet in, select a level and the time. Its going to be an hour, the first time I’ve rowed for an hour for a while. I start steady and let myself stretch and build up a rhythm. By the end of the hour I am dripping wet but more than satisfied with the way the session has gone.

I wander back to the “soffice” to record the session and find that Amazon has delivered my Prickles starter pack. I have taken my role of Hogherd seriously and bought the right food. All I need to do now is construct a feeding station and gauge when to start to tempt my hog out with well chosen morsels.

I change out of my training gear and load the dishwasher and then return to the “soffice” to tidy up some emails. I settle into the early evening TV and then my partner returns from visiting her mother and we finish off last nights fish pie. The TV provides NCIS wallpaper as I start to write the blog. As the evening wears on I can feel myself getting more and more tired. As my partner reminds me, training, dieting and doing a new medication might have something to do with it. That might be true but I don’t think cancer is going to let me off, so regardless, it is necessary to keep fighting. So I shall head for bed early and gather spoons for tomorrows meetings, gym and a delightful trip to the recycling centre to wave farewell to the dead Dyson, Long live Henry.

Monday, and the start of the re-boot of the New Year. I do a muesli breakfast and drugs and then head for the gym. Weekday mornings and afternoons are good times to go, there is elbow room in the changing rooms. I do an hour on a cross trainer, burning 711 calories adn going 7.81 kilometres. A refreshing shower and I sit in the club lounge and sip a large americano and eat a three egg omelette. I take my time and eventually drive home via Sainsburys to get chicken and mince as I am forewarned that Tesco are not going to deliver them this evening.

Home and I clear the kitchen and settle down to select which poems I am going to enter in to the Magma poetry competition. The required admin due to the format required and the entry procedure is formidable. I get the documents prepared and register with the submission portal. Then its time for dinner. I’m feeling tired, abnormally tired for me at this time of day. It could be my meds. I have a flurry of activity to try and liven myself up, I buy hedgehog food, ear buds and send messages and then I flag again. I miss a call from a friend, I become more irritable with the TV, I go to bed and read a Kate Tempest play, Hopelessly Devoted, its prison based and seems ironic. I go to sleep early feeling that today has been long.

Tuesday and I wake up at eight o’clock and feel like I have not slept at all. I get up pull on my “fuck cancer” T shirt and go back to bed. I check my phone for messages and emails and then read another Kae Tempest play; Wasted. My partner brings me a coffee as I read. I finish the play and get up, I feel tired, everything is an effort.

I eat muesli, drink more coffee, clear the kitchen and empty the bins. I pack my gym bag and feel knackered. I recharge my watch and ipod while I play for time and get myself up for going to the gym. I make the gym about 12:30, buy water and head to the changing rooms. I get myself a cross trainer, plug in the ear phones, jack up Rammstein and try to start a session. I feel fucked and it crosses my mind to stop but that’s not how surviving cancer goes. Relentless has to be met with relentless. I will finish this session and so I grit and grind. All that matters is finishing, that will do today. I have a ritual, a drink of water every 20 minutes, it gives me targets to get to and keeps me hydrated. The rest is down to Rammstein and whatever fantasies my pixies come up with to keep my brain occupied. I get there, to the end and I’ve managed to burn dead on 700 calories and gone 7.86 kilometres. Slow but steady got me there. I walk a couple of circuits of the gym floor as I finish my bottle of water and then its off to the showers. It’s a slow one followed by a long black americano in the lounge. I note that my companion is a small and struggling palm, a real one not plastic, I’m impressed and then saddened for it as it seems to me its chances of survival are small.

I go home and have chicken soup, feeling tired and with little motivation to do anything. Tomorrow I shall use the rower in the garage so that I can rest my legs a bit. I do a crossword and put my washing in before retreating to the sofa to catch up with the blog. My ambitions for for the rest of the day are small, firstly get the poems away, eat dinner, go to bed early and perhaps read. Tomorrow is an Elders meeting day and a rower day. Beyond that I will see how it goes, I sense this tiredness may be variable from day to day and clearly affects how communicative I am. Its time to be in the box, to focus and to get through.