Its Thursday and am up early (for me) as my partner goes to work and I re-park my car off the drive. I am just about home again when the tree folk arrive and park their big chipper on the drive. After a few minutes of unloading their fearsome looking tree kit they set to on reducing the trees, hedges and stumps that we have contracted them to do. I eat breakfast, while they fire up the chipper beast, and then I start to draft the blog to a background of Olympics, where our plucky Brits get going. As I sit and type increasing amounts of tree pass by the window to become fine chippings in the blink of an eye. All I have to do now is not panic as the work progresses and see if there is a window of opportunity to go and collect my next three cycles of chemo from the hospital pharmacy in town. Unexpectedly my GP surgery rings and tells me that they are doing an assessment on my blood thinner usage as they have me blood results back. Apart from asking me my weight and whether I am bruising or bleeding its all straight forward. We agree that I am happy to be reviewed again at some point around the end of the year or at the start of next. I thought that was the end of it but suddenly we are onto my cholesterol levels. I point out again that I am borderline and dropping so going back to training and changing my diet is my preferred method of tackling it. I sense I am not going to get away with it and I am right, there is determined effort to get me to try some statins or an alternative but I resist and eventually I settle for some information to be sent to me. With that over I make lunch and watch more Olympics.

The tree folk beaver away until after lunchtime, the trees are reshaped or remove and the hedges are all clipped and trimmed with straight and exact edges. There is one hiccup, they drop a tree limb onto the roof of one of the sheds and goes through it. I am not surprised the shed is rotten and very mossy. The guy is very apologetic and asks if there is anything he can do. Oh yes I reply and fish out a roll of roofing felt and flat head felt nails with a hammer. Between us we manage to re-felt the shed so at least the roof is water tight for now. It just brings forward the need to replace my sheds, in fact carry out phase two of the garden upgrade. The tree folk leave and soon after the boss of the tree folk arrives to stump grind a stump from a big tree that was removed sometime ago. We have a quick chat and then he gets on and does his thing with his beast machine. By mid afternoon everything is done and I am left to do some odd bits of clearing up.

My partner returns from work and I retrieve my car from its temporary parking place and close up the gates for the night. Of course there is the Olympics on and as I drift into the evening the athletics get going. The evening passes to the point I take my night meds and look forward to tomorrows visit to the dentist to get my new crown fitted. I flunked out last time and postponed it so I hope I am able to complete this time. After that is the collection of my chemo drugs from the hospital pharmacy. So its going to be a full day of challenge and somewhere in there I need to train. Now of course I have a cholesterol issue to juggle, bugger me anything else!

Wednesday, its been a hideous night. I got up at 2am to draft yesterdays blog because I could not settle despite being tired after yesterdays exertions. My partner has gone to work and leaves me to sleep as I try to catch up on my sleep. I do wake up and go through my message checks and then get dressed in my training kit. I make my way to the garage and climb aboard the rowing machine. I set off slowly with Radio 2 in my ears. I row with my eyes closed as I focus on just keeping moving. I keep my focus and keep going and feel warmer as I chose to keep a track suit jacket on. When I open my eyes I have just over 3 minutes to go, I hold my pace and finish. When I check the readout I’ve done slightly better than yesterday, so go me. Overall I’ve performed at 84.5% of my normal level when I am fit. so the first goal is to reach 6 kilometres and a 1000 strokes but todays effort is enough to get me over the 100 fitness points on my fitness tracker which is the daily goal.

I take a short rest and make a simple breakfast and then rest some more. There are some Olympics to watch before I go for a bath in an effort to ease my stiff shoulders. Radio accompanies me with documentaries on asbestos in talc and a drama about a swimmer coached by a ruthless trainer. Post bath I rest and do my vitals before having an afternoon pizza. By this time I have no spoons (energy) left so I settle down to draft the blog and ease into the evening. There is of course more Olympics to watch and another episode of Vienna Blood to take in. Tomorrow has to be a rest day from rowing as the tree folk are coming in to do work on the hedges and the trees, it will take time for them to do the work so collecting the next three cycles of my chemo drugs might have to wait. The most important thing is to get some sleep tonight.

Tuesday and I wake up with a sense of needing to do something. This was the day I said I would start to train again, so after a few diversions I get out of bed and into my training gear. The rowing machine is waiting for me in the garage. I strap myself on and set the session for 30 minutes and tentatively start to pull as I listen to radio 2 in my ear buds. Its a strange feeling doing this again after six months and eleven days. I take it gently but I do manage to get to the end of the 30 minutes, I’ve performed at about 30% below what was my usual output, but its a start.

Having trained I get out of my training gear and make myself breakfast. I just about finish my meal when out of the blue one of the Prostate Cancer Specialist Nurses rings me. She wants to know how I am, so I tell her that I have just trained for the first time and filled her in on my recent history and my up coming appointment with the lumps and bumps folk. She is very chatty and positive and keeps reminding me that I have been through a lot and that at my age I must not expect to be instantly okay. She had not realised that I had been on my current medication for so long and was sure the oncologist was right when he says my abdominal lumps are a result of five years worth of 28 day injections. She said that it is little wonder that I was experiencing fatigue. The call ended and I felt that at least someone had heard me and that she new I had heard the oncologist.

I was just settling down to skateboarding children at the Olympics when I get a call from my GP surgery. As a result of the blood tests that my GP had done I was being offered Statins for a raised cholesterol level. I pointed out that last time it was borderline and this this time it had dropped so I thought with exercise and a diet adjustment I would be okay, so I politely declined the offer. Frankly I’ve got enough drugs washing around inside me at the moment. I make lunch and settle down and wait for a friend to call as we had arranged yesterday. Mid afternoon my friend calls and we spend over an hour talking about how I am and what has been going and how she is and what has been going on for her. She is the person I usually go and see in York as my mentor and as always she asks interesting questions and makes useful suggestions about my situation. After the call I have some things to think about and to consider. I always find my time with her supportive and constructive.

I go into the evening feeling that I have had a busy day full of contact with people. There is more Olympics and then an episode of Vienna Blood before I take my meds and retreat to bed with a headache. I am hoping to sleep but it alludes me, so much so that I give up on sleep and get up to draft the blog. It 02:20 in the morning, I’m knackered but sleepless but now must try again to sleep.

Sunday is a day of Olympics and preparing for tomorrows oncology review. One of the things I do is complete a fatigue assessment test the FAS. It turns out I am at the top end of moderately fatigued, most of it being physical fatigue rather then mental fatigue. I scribble notes in the margins of my bloods results. I putter about, lay a new fire in the chimenea for future use and update my blood pressure Excel data base. In the evening there is athletics and SWAT before I take my meds and stay up and watch the arse end of a film to try ensure I am properly tired before going to bed.

Monday, oncology review day. I have slept reasonably so I get up and have breakfast. I take my meds and then wait for the oncologist to ring me. To my surprise ” He who made a pact with the devil” rings me quite soon after the start of the appointed two hour slot. I gave him my recent history and the fact that my GP has referred me for to the sarcoma (lumps adn bumps) clinic for Monday. He is convinced that these bumps are the result of five years of injections and that they are an accumulation of some sort. He says he will talk to his colleagues to speed up the ultrasound and book me an MRI as it will be quicker. I tell him about my fatigue and he is clear that this just needs exercise and again reiterates the need to train till sweaty for 30 to 40 minutes at least 3 or 4 times a week. He tells me he will prescribe my current drugs for another 3 months and then goes. It is as I predicted. Another surprise followed when a lumps and bumps person rings me and we discuss Mondays appointment. I am told to turn up at my time and I will get an ultrasound scan, which will take about ten minutes before I see someone from the team. So it is continue on as planned on that front. So that’s the morning done and I make lunch while my partner goes to the gym for the afternoon leaving me and my eldest daughter to sort out tonights meal.

After a bit more Olympics I drive myself and my eldest daughter to the local garden centre and load up with meal options for the next couple of days. On returning home I do todays crosswords, which I do easily and then start to draft the blog and plan for how I am going to get back into doing the exercise I need to do. First of course is to check the rowing machine is working and lubricated and then changing my daily routine. At the moment my best chance is probably to get up and train, eat, do drugs and shower. My guess is initially that will take all the spoons(energy) I have for the day. It appears the only option that I have being offered to me. So this evening has to be my last indulgent evening of TV, from now on it has to be early nights and determined mornings. I will be interested to see how it goes. While I draft the blog the pharmacy send me a message to say my meds will be ready to collect on Thursday afternoon. Just another bit of the juggle. Before this evenings joys I go to the garage to check the rower out.

After some jiggling and swearing I get the batteries changed in the rowers read out and the display reset, so all is ready for me to start my new activity regime tomorrow, god help anyone who gets in my way, it going to be rugged enough to start up again after months of lack of training. Along with new activity the diet will have to change. Its time to ditch the sweets, biscuits and other goodies as well. I guess my first check point will have to be Christmas in terms of fitness and weight loss. I predict a grumpy patch slowly changing into a sunny spell.

Saturday. Its all Olympics and the odd chore before wandering onto the patio and scribbling odd thoughts, here is one:

409
I misheard "titanium skull"
for "new soul" and thought, 
I'm up for that.
How relieving it would be
to recycle the sins of the past
for an empty, virginal one.
Do you new ones have a distinctive
smell like a new car?
Do new-borns sniff the world
and take in the aroma of innocence?
If I ever had one
its been mislaid along the way,
dropped somewhere along the
grey brick pragmatic way,
a sort of wizard of Oz
with a Dorothy and her
red, take me home shoes.
Fly my pretties fly
I hear myself call
and wonder where my
journey will end. 

                                                        409  03-08-2024.

I also reflect on the good blood results that came through last night. My kidneys have never been better, and my PSA continues to fall, so the prostate cancer is still contained, which means my anxieties and shakiness is probably the side effects of my prolonged medication. For those who missed yesterdays post here they are:

So given my newly found lumps I guess I am going to be juggling a new strand of stuff. No options other than getting on with it. The rest of my day has been eating and lazing until the day peters out in the taking of night meds, drafting the blog and getting myself to bed. Yes I know its not interesting, its just how things are at the moment.

Thursday, I wake and do my vitals after a tricky night, the vitals are okay but I am not sure I am. After breakfast I go to the Shed for the first time in a while and there I stay writing letters and notes for most of the day. They are not my usual letters, they seem truncated and less “plump” than usual and I seem to have lost the threads of what was in the letters that I have received lately. It is my attempt to try and make the effort to engage again with my regular correspondents. My first two or three letters are okay but as the day wears on I am reduced to writing short notes of apology for not replying sooner and promising to do so soon. Eventually by the end of the afternoon I give in and retreat to the house and laze.

Early evening and the garden guy arrives to mow the grass and tidy up a bit. There is Olympics to watch but after a while I get bored and buy the seventh series of SWAT, so that settles the evenings viewing. I take my meds and get myself to bed.

Friday and I have had a lousy night and resorted to co-codamol to get me through. I manage to get some sleep late on in the night and wake with the household up. I do my vitals (okay) and check my messages before my partner reminds me that we have to take her car to have its MOT, so I dress, take my meds and drive off to the garage, waiting to pick up my partner once she has dropped her keys off. Back home there is time to post my letters and notes from yesterday adn pick up some kindling wood.

There is little time to rest at home before I walk down to the GP surgery to have my bloods taken for Mondays Oncology review. When I get to the surgery I have little time to wait before I am called. There is a surprise awaiting, my GP has ordered extra bloods to be taken to monitor my apixaban in take and its effects. So having given twice as much blood as usual I walk home via the village shop collecting a paper and some fire lighters. Tonight could be a chimenea night. I rest for a while before ringing the garage to check on the MOT outcome, its good news, an easy pass. I take my partner to get her car and return home. We go out for lunch at our local garden centre and I feel myself begin to flag so we leave and fill the car on the way home.

The last bits of the afternoon is spent resting and watching the Olympics until I get myself together to lay a new fire in the chimenea in case I end up on the patio this evening. The athletics start so I watch the early heats before tea. I shall watch a mixture of athletics and SWAT tonight as I wait for my blood results to come in at midnight. Its the trigger for the “here we go moment” before the oncology review. Its where I find out if my arithmetic is holding up after my bladder stone removal operation. I grit my teeth and start the wait, and hope for the best and a decent nights sleep.

Stop Press: The Bloods are in: The arithmetic is as good as it gets.

Wednesday and thankfully I have had a better night. The household goes out and leaves me to my getting up rituals. My vitals are okay. I make breakfast and watch some Olympics as Brits when gold. I am determined not to get trapped by the Olympics so I get myself together and spend time scrubbing down and cleaning the patio. Its energy sapping but I push through and get it done. Needless to say when I have finished I am hot and sweaty so retreat to the recliner and spend ages cooling down.

The afternoon is full of the Olympics and odd scribblings until my partner and eldest daughter return from town. So I slide into the evening, an evening meal and then some more patio time. Its been a slow day during which I’ve ben trying to process this next chapter in my health journey. There is little I can do until the scans and assessments are done. It feels as if I have no other option but to grit my teeth and continue on as best I can. Me and Rocket still have the battle against prostate cancer to fight, I guess this is going to become a more complicated war to fight. So tonight I continue to try and keep my structures and routines in place while I continue to record and check my arithmetic and to gather my resources together. The most difficult bit is to remain engaged and as active as I can. So this is the immediate task. For now its draft the blog, take my night meds and get myself to bed and get as much rest as I can.

Tuesday and its been a rugged night, I’m tired of typing that, but that is how it is. My partner goes off to work and I go through my morning pre getting up routines and rituals. I linger in bed trying to get myself together and eventually get myself up for breakfast and more Olympics. My task for today is going to the dentist to get my next crown put in, I’m hoping that this goes well so I can rest in the garden for the afternoon.

It doesn’t. I get to the dentist after having a shower and feel so shit that I postpone the new crown for a week and go home to rest. My sarcoma referral appointment comes through. It feels like it is all pilling on. I write a couple of things but end my evening on the patio with a glass of red wine and a lit chimenea. Why not. Night meds, finish blog and then I go off to face another night.

Saturday and its my eldest daughters birthday. Its been another grim night but there is a celebration lunch to have, cards and presents to be opened. There is of course chocolate birthday cake to consume. All of this goes to plan against the background of the Olympics, at which the Brits seem to be doing quite well. Underlaying it all I my sense of not being well, so by the end of the day and my night meds I go to bed too tired to draft the blog and feeling that I need to do something different.

Sunday and its another night of disruption and a day trying to rest, this is not good. By the time night comes around I’ve made up my mind to see the doctor tomorrow. I take my night meds and pain killers and try to sleep.

Monday and I am awake early to shower, take my vitals and then ring the GP surgery for an appointment. I finally get through and get a midmorning slot. There is time for breakfast before I and my partner walk down slowly to the GP surgery. I explain my discomfort and the fact that I think I have found a lump in my lower abdomen. The doctor examines me and agrees I have a large lump in my right lower abdomen and he finds a smaller one on the other side. Because of my ongoing cancer condition he refers me for an urgent cancer MRI abdominal and pelvic scan. It should come through quiet quickly but in case it does not the doctor gives me a number to ring to chase it up. So I start out on a new exploration, in the meantime I have to manage the discomfort. It feels a bit grim.

My partner and I return home via the village shop to get a paper and some food. I rest for a bit and watch the Olympics before my partner takes me and our eldest daughter for lunch at a tea house that is on the fringes of a local park. The sun is out fully and its hot, a proper summers day. We dine and then return home where I take to the lounger and try to catch up with the blog against the background of Olympic skateboarding whose commentary is just another language. So the waiting starts. In the meantime it will be bloods on Friday and an oncology review next Monday. Dentist tomorrow to finish my new crown, at least my mouth will be in good shape.

Friday I wake up after yet another difficult night, the accumulative effect is fatigue. After I do my vitals, which are showing signs of rising blood pressure, I get up and make the effort to have a shower before a basic breakfast. I try to rest until I am due to go to the chiropodist. As part of life admin I book my partners car in for an MOT and then continue to watch the penultimate day of stages 5 and 6 of the Post Office Enquiry. So by lunch time I gather myself up and drive off to the chiropodist. Walking from the Co-op to the “Foot Clinic” I expend a lot of energy so by the time I am settled in the chiro chair I am out of breathe and nowhere as chatty as I usually am. The chiropodist gets on with the rituals of smartening my feet up and thankfully she carries the conversation.

I get home and instantly go for the relief of the recliner and change clothes. There is still some Post Office Enquiry to watch before I start to draft the blog with an eye on the clock as the Olympic opening ceremony due to start at about 5:45. As I draft the blog I get a fit of listlessness and cannot stand being inside any long so I make ka dash for the garden. Once there I fill the bird feeders and the squirrel box. With the birds fed I take to the swing seat and just relax and watch the nature around me. My partner joins me and we chat. I try to express how I am but not very well, until my partner start tea and I go to watch the Olympic opening ceremony and draft the blog.

The evening is going to be all Olympics but I am bored and tired already, the bloody thing is going on for four hours, typical French indulgence. I have nothing clever to say, I am just absorbed by how I am feeling and knowing it is not right. So I end here and wonder how my night is going to go.