Thursday and it starts with a muesli breakfast and then I am in front of the screen doing the first meeting of the day. A useful meeting but then its on to the next one where we sort out some team arrangements. The morning has flashed by and so after a soup lunch I settle down to read my new book that has arrived this morning. It’s Tedeschi et al’s Posttraumatic Growth: Theory, Research and Applications, and it is a treasure trove of information that I can use in my presentation that I am putting together. I read and make notes until about two o’clock when I drive my partner over to her mothers where I tend the patio pots and she sorts out some banking issues. We go to the local building society to collect a cheque and return to have coffee with her mum. We return home to cook tea and my partner have her singing lesson. This turned out not to happen due to the teacher who had not sorted herself out after recently moving. I watch TV and then start to write the blog. I’m bored, I order a tamping iron and work gloves as I anticipate delivery of cold repair tarmac tomorrow. When all the materials come together I shall resurface some of the drive and fill the pot holes. It will be a relief to have something “solid” to do that has an outcome. More immediately I am thinking about what I am going to cook for our guests on Saturday night. Just the main course to sort out. I send flowers to my clinical supervisor who has just won an award with her company as “The Best Mental Health Consultancy”, which is a great achievement and richly deserved. I’ve not trained to day and I’m tetchy and irritable as a result.

Wednesday and I am awake at 7 o’clock and ready to study. I get my laptop and watch the complete recording of the last training session that the team and I did. This is in preparation for the training session that the team are doing this afternoon. I note the things I want to carry over into the next session and then treat myself to a late breakfast bacon bagel. I read some Posttraumatic Growth literature before getting ready to train in the garage this morning. I decide on an hour long row at a lower level of resistance. Today I choose Radio 4, anything has got to be better than Jeremy Vine.

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I head for a post row shower and get into my latest outfit including a shirt and tie ready for the on line training session. A quick cupcake lunch and I am in front of the laptop eager to perform.

If ever there was a a disastrous non training session this was it. This is part of a national development training, a mandatory training; two staff turned up and clearly had no idea what the training was about and their changing role as a service. The team worked well to maximize what we could get out of the situation, including a new date and commitment to getting the staff there.

The team spent some time processing the aborted session and what we needed to consider for the future. After quite a long discussion we went our various ways. I moved the cars off the drive so that our garden guy could shear the hedges in the drive. There is just time to start the blog and take a call from a friend before tea is ready. and then I move the cars back to the drive. The evening is going to be a football match.

Tomorrow there are meetings to go to but I need to decide to get back on the bike otherwise my back will not take rowing every day. There is also Saturdays menu to be thought about as we have friends coming to dinner for the first time in over a year.

I started to write this blog as a way of dealing with my cancer diagnosis and the journey that this will entail. It was also meant to keep family and friends up to date without having to ask. As I wait for new scan appointments based on my last blood test and my oncologist appointment that has been brought forward I feel that this has become a strange time of a normality set in pandemic isolation. I have a sense of unreality that my blog reflects what must appear a normal life yet I experience it as one of constant threat that has to be considered all the time. Its now 735 days since my cancer diagnosis and 681 days since my first chemo and the start of the blog. My oncologist said the chemo would give me an additional 18 months or 548 days, so I’ve used that up and I am on my own time now. When I think about it like that it just makes me determined to do what I want to do regardless of any pandemic or restrictions.

Tuesday and I am up with the lark as I am taking my eldest daughter for her first vaccination. So the luxury of an early shower and muesli breakfast. My partner goes off to the physio and I take my eldest into town to find the vaccination centre. Parking in a totally empty level of a car park we walk into the centre of Leicester. We find the centre in on of the shopping centre chemists and my daughter takes a seat in a set of perspex cubicles. A five minute wait and she is called into the jab room. I time it on my stop watch. 2 minutes 37 seconds. Really, that fast. She is ushered to the “recovery cubicles” to wait for 15 minutes before she gets released. I note that she is in cubicle 13, I remember that my fist cycle o f chemo was in bay 13. I wait outside in the sun until she is released and we head for the giant cookie store only to find it closed. We end up in Costa Coffee with drinks and snacks. It was a strange encounter with the outside world all perspex screens and half worn face masks. Very few people around and an eerie ghost town feel. We drive home and I head for the garden to the Shed to write letters and then to plant all the plants that were given to me for fathers day. After a quick trip to the post box I spend hours clearing spaces and planting things. My garden is now even more pregnant with flowery potential in the coming months.

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As I go round the garden clearing up I notice that the white peony has come into flower, too good an opportunity to miss.

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A brief rest to eat soup and I am into the garage to train for half an hour on the rowing machine. A reasonable session to keep me going.

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I change and the family eat tea. I settle down to do the blog until the England game comes on the TV at 8 o’clock. England win, Scotland loose. I finish the blog and head for bed as tomorrow I am part of a team delivering some training on line.

Sunday: Fathers Day! I get to spend most of the day with my two daughters who give me cards and presents, but most of all affection. So not only do I have lots of new plants for the garden but I am also now the proud owner of a new San Jose Sharks ice hockey jersey to add to my collection, of course I get cards as well.

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So as we breakfast and celebrate the road outside is closed and finally gets resurfaced after the tarmac lorry leakage excitement of a few days ago.

We spend the morning idling as families do until noon time when I decide to dress for lunch in my new Oxford bags and matching waistcoat. Even though I say it myself I do not look bad for a bloke with prostate cancer.

So we lunch and then my youngest and her fiance have to dash as they are going to have their first vaccine in the afternoon and they have to get back home first. We wave them farewell and I indulge in a long afternoon bath doing absolutely nothing. This is not only a Fathers Day treat but also my rest day from training so I laze guilt free knowing that I weighed in this morning at 91.5 kilos. At the moment I am happy to weigh in anything under 92 kilos, which was my pre illness reasonably fit weight. So floating in my guilt free bath bomb bath is a good experience. I’ve started my prophylactic paracetamol prior to tomorrows 28 day injection so I’m pain free and relaxed. I laze until the football kickoff time approaches. The game is okay and Wales goes through. My evening is spent with my partner watching “Prisoners” a film about two children that get abducted and the responses of the parents. A dark film where the under tone is about making people loose their faith and become brutal and unthinking in their pain. By the time it finished retreat to sleep was the best option, after having cleared the kitchen of course.

Monday. A morning of writing the blog before hopefully going to the Shed to read and write. My 28 day jab is unusually at midday today so I settle down to catch up with the blog as I did not write it yesterday. I friend calls for a brief chat during which she tells me of her champagne meal with friends that all happened without leaving St Pancras station, and one or two work emails pop up and need dealing with. I press on with the blog and suddenly realise its almost time for my injection. I arrive at the GP surgery and await the nurse. I read some of Miriam Akhtar’s What is Post-Traumatic Growth? a nifty little starter book on the topic. I get called in and the nurse takes her time injecting me so as to maximize the absorption and reduce the clumping of the depo and the formation of lumps of injection scar. After that I get my 3 monthly B12 jab. I return home and feed on double noodles before going for a postprandial peregrination with my partner around the village to get a breath of fresh air. Feeling suitably refreshed I return to the blog prior to a work meeting. The day is not what I planned, I still have letter to write, work to do in the form of a presentation, a meeting to attend, training to do and a to do list to sort out. Somehow I am feeling busy and in need of a trip to get away from it all. And as I type this the Tesco delivery arrives just as the rest of the household are all on work calls. Tesco done I go to my work meeting, which gets some arrangements sorted and an understanding of the training the team are delivering on Wednesday. I have time to draw breath and then its football time, tea and more football. So after the excitement of football I go to the garage for half an hour on the rower. Its a training day, so it happens even at 10:30pm.

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I return to the blog aware that today is the summer solstice. Tomorrow the nights start to draw in. Tomorrow I am determined to make it to the Shed and do all the things I meant to do today.

Saturday and the usual early morning coffee in bed and chat. This morning my youngest daughter joins in for a while before we all get up for breakfast. A long and enjoyable breakfast for all the family before we get ready to go to the garden centre where my youngest buys me new plants for fathers day.

We return home and unload my present plants and then indulge in coffee and coffee cake on the patio. The post arrives and its all for me. A new oncology appointment in the middle of August accompanied by another blood test form is the first delight. The second is my new light weight Oxford Bags with matching double breasted waist coat. They are excellent and I am looking forward to an opportunity to wear them out. The family settles into lounge mode and I head for the garage to do an hour on the rower at the lower resistance level. It turns out to be a good session and I end up setting a new personal best.

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I put my weekly wash in the machine, wave my partner and youngest daughter off to the hairdresser and settle down to watch the football. A good game, during which I check the meat , put in the potatoes and load the tumble drier and start to write the blog as tonight I shall be playing on line games with the family and hopefully avoiding too much indulgence. So I go to feast and play with my family, tomorrow is weigh in day and the start of pre 28 day jab paracetamol.

Friday and I meant to clean the fish but I end up doing other things. I have an early call from a friend on her way to a spar day and I then move onto breakfast. My eldest daughter comes and chats and it turns into a long discussion about the intricacies of friendship. After that I drove my eldest to town so she could go to the gym and I filled the car with petrol. My partner and I drive to the garden centre to get food for our visiting youngest daughter and fiance. So a sparse lunch follows and I watch some football but I abandon that in order to go and train. I row again as my partner has presented me with information that says cycling can contribute to rises in the levels of PSA. So I am going to focus on rowing for a while and see what happens at my next blood test on the first of July. Any way a set myself to do half an hour at a slightly higher level and set a personal best.

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I change and record my efforts before hitting the sofa and waiting for the big football match. It turns out to be a disappointment but my youngest and her fiance arrive to share pizza. Post football everyone goes to bed and leave me on the sofa writing the blog. So my day ends with nothing of what I planned done.

Thursday and its a work day so an early muesli breakfast for me and some organisational admin. By 10 o’clock I am in front of my screen and in a meeting. The meeting is quite useful but I am surprised by a call from my doctors surgery. According to the receptionist the doctor wants me in to do another blood test having seen my last results. I agree a time on the 1st of July and return to the meeting feeling slightly taken aback. The meeting continues and then I get another call from a friend which I take as the meeting had stopped doing any real business. We chat for a while and I then return to the meeting in time to catch the end of it. I grab a soup lunch and open my post to find a letter from a friend, an unexpected treat to read later. Its back to the laptop quickly to host the final session of the Open Forum. No one turns up so my co host and I chat about the history of the forum and some future work. As I log off and think about my next chore Mr Amazon delivers my new steam punk sun glasses,which of course I try on.

I take a wander round my front garden trying to clear my head from the mornings work and of course I find new flowers in bloom.

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Having cleared my head its time to put my reorganised winter fleeces into boxes and store then in the loft. Its part of clearing the back bedroom for our youngest daughter and fiance who are visiting this weekend. Mission complete I change into my training kit and head for the garage to row for an hour. It turns in to a reasonable session.

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As I record my session a friend phones and we have a chance for a brief chat about my unexpected blood test and what that might mean. The call over I change out of my kit and clear the kitchen and then sit with a drink and read my letter. So lovely to have a letter to read with a drink. The football comes on and I watch it until tea arrives, my favourite, tuna pasta. My evening continues with football and writing the blog. Tomorrow I will collect my drugs and spend some time writing. I’m still processing my doctors interest and what it means.

Wednesday and day two of the BGSPD conference, so I am up early. I get a coffee and finish reading Shuggie Bain on the patio. Here is a spoiler, it is as unremittingly depressing at the end as it is at the start and all the way through. I then ring the GP surgery to book my Monday injection. I get myself breakfast, chat to a friend on the phone and settle down in front of the laptop. My day proceeds as I listen to one presentation after another.

At midday I break off for lunch and spend it in the shed on the bike to get my training in for the day. Its bloody hot and I am anxious to get back to the conference on time so I limit myself to 50 minutes.

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The afternoon is all conference but I get distracted to the extent that I end up being the proud owner of a Gatsby check pair of Oxford Bags with a matching double breasted waist coat. Really neat but such an indulgence, but then I need a lift. My new button braces arrive. I’m all wardrobed up and need somewhere to go. The conference comes to an end at 5 o’clock and Wales kick off against Turkey, who they finally over come two nil. Evening progresses with tea prepared by my partner and then there is more football but I abandon it to sort out my fleece storage and to re- organise my trouser storage. I return to the football but abandon it again to watch the Great British Seeing Bee as I write the blog. I will not spill the outcome. Tomorrow I am back to the world of work and the last session of the Open Forum that I’ve been hosting with the team. It marks the end of a phase. We had hoped that it would coincide with the final easing of COVID restrictions but it is not to be. So tomorrow we will say our farewells and move on.

Tuesday and its oncologist day. So I am up and breakfasted by 9am when I am expecting to be rung by he who made a pact with the devil. Sure enough a few minutes after 9am I get a phone call, not from the expected person but someone I assume is part of the team. If there was any hope of increased humanity it quickly disappeared. Brusk and perfunctory are my chosen adjectives. Any way she noted that my PSR had risen and that my back pain had persisted from my last phone call in February. So I am told that I will be rescanned and seen in two months and that a blood form will be sent to me. She then asked if I was pissing okay and if my bowels working. She then advised me that if I found myself loosing strength in my arms and legs that I should ring the team nurse. She then rang off. My partner gave me a hard time as I had not mentioned my low platelet count. I will drink more water and wonder about whether the oncologists anxieties about the cancer in my spine turning me into a quadriplegic are realistic or not.

I log onto to the BGSPD online conference and spend my day listening to the most up to date work going on in the field of personality disorder. There is a clear modern dialogue going on about race and exclusion/inclusion. First time I had heard the phrase “comfortable around melanin”, clearly the world changes. This is how I spent my day:

As you can see I logged out at 15:30 to go and train. There comes a point where I need to look after me rather than listen to how others are looking after other people. So I go and row for 45 minutes.

I change and clear the kitchen before a friend rings for a brief chat about the day, then I take a walk around the garden with my partner to see what is new in the day.

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My evening consisted of eating tea, watching football, clearing the kitchen, watching football and now writing the blog. The day has left me with much to consider. I am aware that I have not touched my poetry project out of some misplaced sense of having time. When things are going well there is a tendency to forget that I am ill and have time limits shorter than others. At the moment I just need to stick to drinking water, not eating sugar and exercising till I know what the new scans tell me, providing I can get the medical profession to share. And then I will see if the wind is blowing.

Monday,its warm and humid so I go to the shed after breakfast to write letters. I then spend time reading and making notes for my presentation in July. I also start drafting the content of the slides I shall use. I dip in and out of book as I think about what I want to say. Slowly I accrue a pile of books which make a contribution and will end up as a reference slide. I’ve given up doing reference lists I just stick up a picture of the book pile and let people source them if they ae interested. To date the pile looks like this:

Lunchtime arrives and I microwave a carton of chicken soup ad sip it in the shed before going into the house to watch Scotland get beaten by the Czech Republic. I change into my training gear and make my way back to the shed to train for an hour on the bike but not before telling the garden guy to mow the grass. The session is okay for a Monday.

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I stop to admire the peony as I return to the house.

Time for tea and one more football match before a very long bath during which I listen to Radio Four’s comedy club. By the time I emerge from the bathroom smelling of CK One the household has gone to bed leaving me a peaceful time to write the blog. Tomorrow I have my oncologist call at 9am. I am still not sure what I want to say to him or ask him. I shall discuss my latest bloods and tell him I have pain in my right hip area at the back, he will suggest paracetamol and see me again by telephone again in four months. I shall then get on with attending an on line conference for the next two days. Must keep the little grey cells working as Poirot would say.