Its Monday and I am up, showered and ready to hit the road by 9:30. I’m going to York to see my mentor and friend for lunch and a talk. The journey is good on my new tyres and I make good enough time to stop for a coffee and pastry. I’m pleased that I managed the journey without wine gums but annoyed that I succumbed to the pastry. Lunch is out in town and is a welcome change. We eat and talk, especially about the current situation in Afghanistan as my friend has a connection to the ongoing crisis and the difficulties of getting people out of there. The good news is that by the end of the afternoon she knows that the people concerned are inside the movement centre and in Kabul airport. With luck they will be out soon. We return to her house to continue our conversation until it is time for me to go and for her to go and ride. I am honoured that he dog likes me and chooses to sit with .

I get to my hotel to find the restaurant is not open tonight so make a reservation for a nearby pub and then head for the bar for a drink and to start todays blog. I intend to sleep well tonight and have a late breakfast tomorrow.

Sunday, up early to make drinks and then its time to read some poetry from the books that have just arrived for our writing course. I watch the beginning of the football highlights that I missed last night and return to the poems of Uganda under Idi Amin, or to give him his full tittle: His Excellency, President for Life, Field Marshall Al Hadj Doctor Idi Amin Dada, VC, DSO, MC, Lord of all the Beasts of the Earth and Fishes of the Sea and Conqueror of the British Empire in Africa in General and Uganda in Particular. He was also fond of declaring himself King of Scotland. The poetry of Nick Makoha gives a picture of what that all meant to the people of Uganda as Idi Amin descended from his popular overthrow of Dr Obote into tyranthood. Nick Makoha’s collection of poems “Kingdom of Gravity” plots his flight from Uganda via the airports he passed through in is flight from Idi Amin’s Uganda. Its good stuff and is very different from his first collection “The Lost Collection of an Invisible Man.” published some years prior. So it comes time for breakfast and the Sunday call to our youngest. She is bright and cheery and I think pleased to see us. We chat about family things and plans for the future, their new house being bought and possible marriage options. Nothing is agreed except that its going to take time. the call ends and we go about our chores.

Sunday is the day we sort the house. Before I get stuck in I take the car to the garage to top up the tank and check the pressure in the new tyres. While there I grab a couple of Sunday papers and a bag of wine gums for the drive to York tomorrow. I find the occasional wine gum staves off boredom of straight line driving and helps me concentrate. I thought I might alter my route but it in the end I will go my usual route. I return to pick up my chores. My role is to empty the Dyson and dehair the roller before cleaning the downstairs carpets. As I am Dysoning I notice a butterfly on the Buddleia and pop out with my phone to get pictures and get rewarded with two of them.

• 

• 

• 

• 

With the place tidy its time to go to the garden centre to hunt for a birthday present suitable for a young Shri Lankan woman. It has to be light and affordable. So we arrive at the garden centre and browse what options there are. It turns out that these are limited but we eventually manage and also collect a pie, bacon and a birthday lemon drizzle cake for later in the week. Home and while my partner reads the Sundays I start the blog. There is still the packing for tomorrow to do, and a Tesco order to be amended but I suspect I will manage to see the football highlights later tonight.

Friday,and its a day of no work so I can choose what I do, which is a real luxury. The day starts with a muesli breakfast and the ritualistic filing of my medicines boxes. I have two identical ones now so that I can stay a week ahead. It means that if I travel or go away I can always carry a spare supply with me conveniently. To be frank when I write my blog a day late like this Friday I have to sit and think about what I actually did the day before . I check my phone to see when people called me which acts as an aide memoir. It is a sad comment on how little attention I pay to much of my life or how forgettable so much of my routine life actually is. I tend to remember thematic events, for example I know that I did a lot of washing so that by the end of the day all my clothes were clean, dry and stored away and that I wrote a letter. I always remember when I have written letters because it means I have been in my Shed. In particular yesterday sticks in my mind because of how inky my hands got using a new pen nib holder and aubergine drawing ink. Although I remember that part of my morning, before the luxury of my Shed, was given to me giving my eldest daughter a lift into town so that she could go to the gym and to her circus skills session. Most of my morning was spent in the Shed writing letters. My lunchtime was spent with my partner eating and doing the days crossword puzzles before taking a call from a friend. There was the inevitable short walk to the post box and the wander round the garden taking pictures. This time was prompted by a butterfly resting on the lounge window ledge.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

At some point my partner went to the hairdresser and I went to the garage to train in the garage. I gave myself an hour at a reasonable resistance. I tried to use my aerobic training mask but I could only mange a couple of minutes with it as the effort was so great. This is a new challenge, I need to be able to get back to being able to start a session with a ten minute slot of using the mask. Its good for my lung capacity. It was a hard session as my stomach is still sore from Mondays injection. I have a sore area on my stomach at the injection site and a noticeable lump under the skin that is uncomfortable. It is eases over time as the depo injection disperses but it is usually less sore at this stage of the week.

• 

• 

By the time I am out of the bath and my partner has returned from the hairdresser no one can be arsed to cook so we order in Indian and watch a film together followed by a new series on channel 5. Its all escapist stuff before going off to bed having, in an act of great will, cleared he kitchen and put the dishwasher on. I go to bed feeling word itchy. Not only have I not written the blog but I have poems washing around inside me. The wine gum hangover one just won’t materialise and now I have a new one sitting in there fermenting. This one is about the silence and the rage of Autumn, the vulnerability of survival and the distance of spring, but it too eludes me at the moment.

Saturday and I am up early and write yesterdays blog with a cup of coffee before taking my partner a drink. Today is big. There is a new carer looking after my partners mother, so that is a visit to be made and there are new tyres for my car to be fitted at some point. My guess is that other stuff is going to crop up as well it always does. We eat a bacon bagel breakfast and clear the decks for the day. No sooner had I finished breakfast than the door bell rang and Mr Kwikfit was introducing himself. I move my car to a quiet adjacent road and leave Mr Kwikfit to get on with the tyre fitting. It takes him less than an hour before he’s at my door handing me my keys. I retrieve my car and feel relief that I have new tyres for the coming winter and travels. I watch the early day football match keeping one eye on the Amazon site to see when my books are going to arrive. What does arrive in the post is a blood form for my next oncology appointment, but no date for the appointment. I guess it will turn up sooner or later.

By the time my partner returns the match is over and I am just finishing clearing the garage work bench so that I can use it in future to mend some things that have in bags of pieces. By the time its all done my new books have arrived. These books are written by the three tutors on the residential writing course that we are booked on in November. They look to be an interesting mixture. One of them comes with a warning about content. I do not remember any one at Don Giovani popping out before hand to warn those of a nervous disposition that the opening scenes include rape, murder and seduction. Any way I think I am in for some interesting new poetry and perhaps some new fiction.

• 

• 

• 

• 

As I said it looks like I am going to be introduced to some new authors over the next few weeks. I have to say I am looking forward to meeting the authors in person and being tutored by them. Apparently they read some of their own work as part of the experience. I wonder how the context will be set. So having given them a first look and found that the mighty Brentford had got an away draw this week, I headed to the garage to do a short but rugged training session on the rower. In a full hardy moment I set the resistance to maximum and go for it as it is a training rest day tomorrow. Result! I row a personal best for the level.

• 

• 

I recover in time to eat chicken fajitas and then flop on the sofa to continue to write the blog I started this morning. The rest of my evening will be a film, perhaps some football highlights but definitely some new poetry.

Thursday, a work free day so I can pick up some of the chores I need to do. So on to an egg sandwich breakfast and then into the garden for a few hours. I toiled away trying to tidy up the shrubs and bring order to the borders. A friend calls briefly, which provides a very welcome drinks break, good to be able to chat even for a short time. A few haircuts here and there on the ground cover plants and some radical pruning helped. There was a lot of dead heading to be done and it did not take long to fill the garden bin even when compacted down. It went reasonably well and as I cleared away some spaces I discovered the odd small jewel that had gone unnoticed.

By two o’clock I was done and needed a rest not to mention lunch. While I lunched I ordered some books written by the tutors who are going to be on the writing course that is booked for November. It seems a good way to find new material to read and new authors. I’m pleased that two of them are poets. It starts to rain so I look to my inside chores list. I take pity of the fish whose glass has turned green. Before I can get started I get a call from a friend who is catching up and tells me about her adventures learning how to play golf. Its quite a performance to clean all the filters, clean the pumps and outlets and clean the glass. Of course once that has been done a percentage of the water has to be changed. This particular overhaul meant finding and changing one of the bulbs in the lighting hood. Eventually it gets done and I begin a treatment cycle for the tank which means I put 44 drops of magic chemical stuff in the tank to begin to counter algae growth and feed the fish a second meal of the day to help them recover.

Clearing away the fish equipment I get my self sorted and take on EON. I try to send them my meter readings as they requested. They decide that the gas reading is right but they will not accept the electricity reading. Part of me is not surprised as it is lower then the last one they estimated, which cost me a fortune. What followed was an elongated wrestling match, me versus IT, Apps and auto bot answering machines. I will not bore you with the details however the outcome was me finding an email address to communicate with EON and sending them pictures of the meters. I am left with a sense of helplessness and a decidedly homicidal urge. Thankfully its Thursday and that means tuna pasta, a favourite, it distracts me. My partner goes off to have her first singing lessons in several weeks due to her teacher having taken a month off, I write the blog and settle into an evening of uncertain activity. I still haven’t trained yet today and I wonder if I can summon the energy to.

Tuesday and another early start as we get my partners car to the garage for it’s MOT. There is just time for a fried egg sandwich breakfast and a quick call with a friend before I am in front of the laptop for a 9 o’clock meeting. Its a long meeting that goes through till 12:30. Nice to be working on something I like and with some familiar faces that I like. There is time for a coffee and pastry before I start to do admin work and some thinking from the morning meeting. I book myself and partner onto a residential writing course in November. Rather than go beach walking and watching TV in the Great British climate we are hunkering down in the depths of Devon to learn how to write for the first time. Totleigh Barton to be precise.

I also managed to book a table in a brasserie in St Pancras station for a farewell lunch next Thursday. So the afternoon passed until the garage rang to say the car was ready . We duly collected the car and returned to find the garden guy trimming our front hedges. Taking inspiration from him I went in search of what was new in the garden and found some really lovely surprises. It never ceases to amaze me how my garden keeps producing gems beyond belief both large and tiny.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

The evening arrives as the garden guy leaves and I settle down to write the blog and while the evening away as I get tired. I’ve not trained yet today and wonder if I can raise the energy for a short burst of activity.

It’s Tuesday and apart from my last one to one with my boss at Enabling Environments I also have an oncology call to take. So its a speedy breakfast and I am in front of the screen doing my last one to one. It goes okay and then I am waiting for my oncology call.

While I wait I arrange for the heating system to be serviced in September and order four new tyres for the car to be fitted on Saturday. The nice bit is that they are going to fit them on the drive so there is no boring hanging around at a fitters. So I continue to wait for the phone call.

The phone rang and we are into the oncologist call. Good news, neither the bone scan or the soft tissue scan is showing any new cancer. My existing tumors in my hips have not grown and are the same as they were on the last scan. The cancer in my back has not spread. Generally my blood test results are okay except the rise in my PSA level. For the second time in succession it has risen by 0.5, which is not good. It is this that is concerning so the plan is that I am to be reviewed in three months with new blood tests including testosterone. If my PSA has spiked again I will be scanned again and if they are clear two possible new drugs will be considered. The first is Abiraterone (Zytiga), the second is Ipiamumab (Yervay). Zytiga is a secondary treatment for advanced prostate cancer when the first wave of chemo or hormone restricting treatment begins to fail. Zytiga is administered with steroids and that makes me not keen. If I can I want to avoid steroids. The down side of the use of Yervay is that it is not usually used for prostate cancer and would be part of a clinical trail. Am I Guinea pig fodder I ask myself? That’s a question that will have to wait for an answer and may never need to be answered. So there it is, three more months of monitoring and then we might be doing something new. In essence its still as good as it gets.

I breathe a sigh of relief and grab some lunch before changing into my training gear. Now that I know that I have a three month window I feel more motivated to get myself properly fit. I get in to the garage and set off for an hours row at an average resistance. Its harder than it should be but I complete it.

• 

• 

My jab from yesterday is still sore so I head for a post training bath to ease my body. I finally get to using my bubble bath bar. Its a real pleasure to ease myself into the bubbles and to relax for an hour.

There is tea to eat and then a blog to write, of course NCIS is on in the background. Tomorrow I’ve a review of TC specialist training preceded by a dash to the garage to get my partners car MOT’d. So life goes on in “as good as it gets mode”.

Monday. Jab Monday. I wake, get up to a quick shower and a dash to the GP surgery having downed my meds and prophylactic paracetamol. I make it with two minutes to go clutching the jab box. I get sat down to be immediately called by the nurse. The nice nurse who takes her time and tries not to leave a lump. Today it stings like hell and feels sore straight away. I go home and eat a muesli breakfast and a coffee. I get to the Shed as quickly as possible and load up a new nib in a new holder and start to write letters. I find that my beautiful writing paper and envelopes came in a strange ratio. 2 sheets of paper to each envelope! Who writes a four side letter, and if you use proper ink two sheets. The result is that I have written lots of pretty letters and now have a surplus of pretty envelopes. Lunch arrives and I snack before doing a zoom meeting for work. Its relatively short but there is knock on work to do after it. Taking a break I go to the post office to post my letters and buy a fresh supply of stamps. I catch up with some recording and then set about cooking a curry for this evenings tea. I like the preparation and the creation. The final concoction is left to bubble for an hour. We eat tea and settle for the evening. My friend calls and we have a brief chat about the rigours of child raising and how some days can be more demanding than others. I am reminded to write a question list for the oncologist tomorrow in order to avoid them hitting and running in the shortest possible time. I start to write the blog against the background of new season NCIS until the Tesco delivery arrives. A flurry of activity ad then its back to the blog. Tomorrow I get my scan results, I will have data on which to decide how things are and what my options might be. Tomorrow may go from “Its as good as it gets” to “This could be the last time”.

Its Sunday, I never returned to yesterdays blog, I guess I was too preoccupied with my results to bother, so here I am today. First thing to do is to weigh in. 93.8 kilos, that’s 0.7 kilos down on last week. Not bad given the week I’ve had, so there are reasons to be cheerful. So while my partner cooks breakfast I drive down to the garage to sort the car, petrol and tyres. I collect the Sunday newspapers and return to breakfast when I take my meds plus the first dose of prophylactic paracetamol prior to tomorrows 28 day jab. The family amuses itself until we all panic at 1:30pm because we should be at the alpaca walk. They specifically said be there half an hour before you are due to go on your walk and we are not. I usher the family into the car and then demonstrate what a 2 litre sports car can do. We arrive 5 minutes before our session is due to begin. Hero. We get labelled and buy bags of alpaca food.

So a very chirpy woman introduced herself and gave us the prelim chat about bonding with an alpaca and the does and don’ts of alpaca etiquette. Basically it boiled down to “do what your alpaca tells you” or you end up, and I quote, “alpaca skiing”. Apparently they can get up to speeds of 30 miles an hour, hence the need to let go of the rope. We get introduced to our alpacas, mine is Illy, my partners was Bolt and my daughter’s was called Knowledge. Illy was sweet natured and sweet toothed as witnessed by his love of clover.

Illy is the only one of his type on the walk today. His coat is the major difference in that its hair is curl and falls like ringlets unlike the other type whose hair is more short and compact like a sheep. So I feel in tune with Illy as my hair also falls in ringlets. I found a brother. We walk our alpacas and of course there is a feeding stop when we try to take selfies and group photos.

• 

• 

Its a bit scary that my teeth are so Alpacaish except they only have teeth in their lower jaw at the front. Having walked our alpacas we took them to their field, took off their leads and turned them free into their home.

We return to the farm cafe and have a drink and a flapjack before heading off home, at a slower speed that we arrived at. On getting home its time for a drink and then I get on with making a pie for our tea.

• 

• 

We eat pie for teas and we settle down to a programme about hippos and a travelogue of Ethiopia. Tomorrow I have my 28 day jab and a work meeting to keep me busy but with luck I will get time in my Shed with my newly arrived pen nib holders and I might get some gardening done.

Midnight Friday and my blood test results get posted on the Patient View app. I read them and note the rise in PSA, I go to bed perturbed. Saturday morning I rise early and process my blood results in my usual way. I’m trying not to panic and to remain calm, there are more scan results to come. I need to wait and see what it all means when put together. When all is said and done my blood results are okay, in fact moving in the right direction or not changing from the normal range, it is the PSA which is the crucial one. A rise of 0.35 is used as the cut off criteria for oncologists to take note (NB), this is the second set of tests over two months that have shown a rise of 0.5, hence my perturbation.

As you can see the out of range scores are moving in the right direction towards the normal range. Urea is dropping to wards normal, eGFR is just one point from normal and is stable and my Platelets count is moving up towards the normal range. The fly in the ointment is the rise in PSA. Although in the normal range for my age the rise is significant because of what it potentially signals and that is, that my body has found a way round the effect of the hormone therapy and/or the chemotherapy I had. It is a common process for this condition but one that is negative in terms of holding off the disease. As I say I’m trying not to panic, to wait for the rest of my scan results and to hear what the oncologist has to say on Tuesday.

The rest of my day is going to be filled with gardening, cleaning out the fish tank and doing the generative everyday things that constitute a life. I might also find time to celebrate that Brentford for a number of hours sit at the top of the premier division after beating Arsenal 2-0 last night in their first top league game since 1947. Perhaps I will come back to this page to edit it later in the evening.

Friday, its blood sample day so its up early and down to the GP surgery. Its a familiar routine now so I am in and out in double quick time. I return home via the co-op to get a paper and some Alpro for breakfast before my first meeting of the day at 9 o’clock. The meeting is interesting in that the understandings of each of us was clearly different and needed to be clarifies before we could move on. Meeting over and I have new meetings in the diary and I retreat to the Shed to write letters. By lunchtime I am ready for a walk and then a snack. A friend calls and we chat for a while before I give my eldest daughter a lift to her circus hoop session and to post my letters. Back home I take a deep breath and get ready to garden, when I get another call and we chat for a while. I prune one of the fir trees in the back garden and then cut the hedges on the drive so its possible to park the car on the drive properly. It does not take too long but it takes it out of me and I flop on the swing seat with a 0% beer. My partner and I chat for a while and plan the immediate future before I ring my sister and my partner rings her brother and then makes dinner. We eat while NCIS plays out in the background and we sink into evening.

It will be long evening as I wait to see if Brentford can hold onto their 1-0 lead at half time over Arsenal. Their first goal in the top division since 1947, a year before I was born, so a truly “in my life time experience”. I will not go to bed until gone midnight as that is when my blood results will get posted on the patient view app and I get to know some of my results. Its one of those weekends when everything comes together, blood results and the taking of prophylactic paracetamol before my 28 day injection on Monday. In theory this will make sense on Tuesday when the oncologist calls to tell me the outcome. It feels like a crucial moment this time but I am not hopeful of anything useful from the oncologist apart him/her trying to get off the phone as quickly as possible.