Thursday and I wake up unbelievably late, 10:30, no idea why but there you go it happens sometimes. I take my vitals, all okay and note that this is the first day of Cycle 27 of my chemo. I get up and get into my training gear and have toast and my morning meds. Straight after I am off to the garage and the rowing machine. Today has to be an hours session as the temperature has dropped enough. I strap in and get going. It turns out a good session as I manage to get over 12 kilometres and burn off just over 800 calories.

By the time I have recovered my partner had returned from the gym. After a rest we go to the garden centre to pick up more compost and to have a snack. Refreshed and refuelled there is gardening to do. The Hibiscus that is pot bound needs to be transferred into the ground, there are plants to be potted on or out. Of course the bird feeders need to be filled, so I and my partner set to. After much digging and potting I run out of energy and clear everything away before retreating to the sofa and Wimbledon. Of course the plucky Brit looses and in the women’s European football Spain take Portugal apart.

The evening passes with a poor film, night meds and the drafting of the blog.

Wednesday and I wake up feeling disorientated for a while, I seem to have woken up abruptly. My partner hands me my morning hot water and then prepares to go and see her mother with her brother. Already there is the sounds of the hedge trimmers at work comes through the window. Our neighbours on either side of us and us are having our hedges done at the same time, that’s community for you. So I get up, grab breakfast and my morning meds and then start on my to do list. Top of the list is the cleaning of the shower head in the downstairs shower. A minor, but tricky job demanding some thought so as to not damage the threads or the fitting. With that done its time to get the hedge people drinks and to start to draft the blog. A friend calls and we are able to have a quick chat before she goes into see her chiropractor.

So the afternoon arrives with manicured hedges and my partner and I go off to buy more plants for the garden and grab a quick snack. Back home the garden guy turned up and reclaimed the stepping stones for us while I set about weeding out some of the beds. So I slide into the evening ensnared by Wimbledon and the women’s European football championships, I feel doomed for at least a fortnight but I will have the joy of new glasses ordered on line from Vision Express as I appear to have lost my latest pair. The only reason I discovered I could order on line was because of the numbers of times I tried to ring them and got no answer. I go to bed full of my night meds and the knowledge that tomorrow I have nothing planned and no meetings, at last I will be able to train and then sort out my writing shed, I might even get to write some letters.

The most important thing about today though is that it is the last day of Cycle 26 of my chemo. I will have been on this medication for two years in a few days time as I start Cycle 27. Apparently lots of people do not make it past the two year mark on this medication so with another three cycles in hand I guess I am doing okay.

Tuesday and its hot again and the first day of July. The priority is to train in the morning before the heat becomes too much, so I am up and in my training kit before taking my morning meds and a quick breakfast of hot water and the last of a bag of liquorice all sorts. So I get into the garage and go for a 30 minute session. In this heat little and often is my strategy. Its a reasonable session and makes me put the effort in.

Of course I head for the shower only to find it keeps giving me a “low Pressure” warning and will not run and to add insult to injury it is asking to be cleaned. So I spend time cleaning the shower head but still I get a low pressure warning. I abandon the shower and head down stairs to the shower in the utility area. I finally get my shower but by the time I’ve done I have very little time before my dental appointment.

My dentist is lovely and very good. Today there is a work experience person sitting in so as my filling is being done there is a technical running commentary. All done without any anaesthetic, I am out in no time and gather up a news paper and treats before going home. I putter around and watch tennis into the evening, where there is a film to watch, Nonas, and a blog to draft. Eventually I take my night meds and head for bed knowing that tomorrow the tree folk will descend to cut our hedges back.

This edition of the blog covers two big days, a recovery day and very hot day. The exciting times were on the Friday and Saturday when my son brought his partner and my two Swedish grandchildren to see us us. At the same time my youngest daughter brought her son, my youngest grandchild to see us and to meet his Swedish cousins. For the first time all my children and grandchildren were sat around the same table eating together and later playing together. There was a visit to the the local tropical bird garden and the making of the acquaintance of various parrots and macaws in acts of bravery. There was a water fight of mammoth proportions although I have no idea where the water pistols came from or who first grabbed the hosepipe. There was an appearance of the paddling pool, bubble machine, ice cream and of course more food around the table. Its been a while since I had to rummage around for spare chairs to get everyone seated but we managed. Here are a few pictures just to give a flavour of two glorious days of my family being together.

It was a glorious couple of days which I hope sticks in the memories of everyone. By coincidence the summary letter from my oncologist arrived on the Saturday morning and confirmed my understanding of the conversation we had had at the review. It was unexpected good news in that the scan could find no metastasis in my back or lymph where it had been before and my PSA had held constant. So its a holding and monitoring strategy for three months, which I think is a good result. I put the copy of the letter here because after all this blog is supposed to be about my journey with prostate cancer and this letter says two things, firstly you can fight and have victories on the nhs and second if your rich enough there are other options outside the nhs

So there you have it in a nut shell. My progress it good news as long as I can stay metastasis free. It gave me a great lift along side seeing all my grandchild at the same time. My stance of fighting has been proven right and so it needs to remain in place. I cannot afford distractions from the routines that I have tried to maintain, both physical and cognitive. I need to keep on rowing and feeding my brain if I am to travel again, see all my grandchildren again and live a life that feels it has joy in it. I have a birthday coming up and somehow getting to this one has been important. I did not think I would be able to sit with all my children and their children in one place but this weekend I did and that is the best possible birthday present I could have wished for. At last I have a sense of wider family and a renewed sense of a place and a role to play beyond being a cancer patient being palliated.

They had all gone their various ways by Saturday evening leaving my household to rest and reflect. I had managed to find some things to send the two Swedish grandchildren away with, seem to have gone down well. Of course I started on putting all the photographs together and editing some of them for use elsewhere. Inevitably it came time to pack away the fun toys and to take my night meds and get myself to bed. Sunday just saw my partner and I clearing away things so that we could get fall back into our routines and settle down in the early evening to watch the England women’s football team thrash Jamaica, before continuing to watch Suspicion on itv-x. After a couple of bewildering episodes it was time to go to bed but not before catching a glimpse of the headline acts at Glastonbury, perhaps one day I will make it there but 2026 is going to be a fallow year to let the farm recover so I will need to stick around until 2017 at least.

Monday and its hot, very hot, unseasonably hot so as my partner goes off to have coffee with a friend I hunker down in the lounge, have a cold breakfast and set about catching up on the blog, which means a lot of picture downloading and editing. I beaver away at this till gone 1pm interrupted only by the post delivering recycling materials, the dentist calling to remind me that I am due a filling tomorrow, messages from Tesco telling me todays order is ready for delivery and the sporadic visits to the bathroom. Of all the things I need to do most it is to knuckle down and write letters to all the friends that I have failed to write to recently, they must be feeling neglected and abandoned by now. It has been cruel how “things” have got in the way over the recent weeks that seem to have prevented me from maintaining my correspondence, it is however a serious part of how I feed my brain and keep the relationships with my friends alive and nutritive. Its time to get back into the Shed and rehabilitate my pens and inks and put ideas and thoughts on paper and make my regular trips to the post office to send those parts of me on their way.

First there is a thirsty garden to tend and ease through this hot spell, new plants are required and a trip to the garden centre to be had. My Monday evening sees me dip into Wimbledon and finish the Suspicion series. Its still hot as I take my night meds and make my way to bed anticipating the joys of visiting the dentist tomorrow for a filling.

Thursday and all I have is one picture that sums up the day and a conversation with a friend before meeting my grandchildren tomorrow.

The rest of the day has been shopping and preparation for tomorrows visit by the Swedish grand children and the English one. Night meds and bed, pushing cancer to the back of my mind.

Wednesday and I am awake early because today is oncology review day. There is time for toast and to take my morning meds before I get on the Uber App and magic up a taxi for 8 o’clock. It all works and I and my partner arrive early at the oncology service. I get into to see the consultant, “he who made a pact with the devil”, first, which is a result in itself.

The outcome was as follows: 1. My bone scan shows nothing, which is brilliant. The original abnormalities have gone, they cannot find them. Apparently I have responded so well. 2. The gene test they did on me was negative, so that’s another possible issue out of the way. 3. My PSA has held steady and as a result the oncologist is happy to go for 12 weeks to the next review, that’ s a result. 4. My next review will be over the phone. 5. if my PSA rises as a trend I will be prescribed steroids along side the current medication. 6. I will have an interim blood test to check my PSA.

So I am written two blood forms, a pink form for reception and a continuation for my current medication that I have to take to the pharmacy. My partner and I make our way to the pharmacy and hand in my continuation form. I am told it will be 45 minutes before it will be ready and handed a bleeper. My partner and I go to the hospital café. Here we catch up with our understanding of what has just been said in the consultation as we nibble away at our snacks. After about 40 minutes the pager goes and we make our way back to the pharmacy. There are my three boxes with the next three cycles waiting for me. We make our way out after a pre-emptive visit to the facilities. At a hospital entrance I work the Uber App again with the result that we have to scuttle across to the AVO hotel reception. After an interesting route home we get back and have lunch.

With renewed energy my partner and I go off to the local DIY store and buy the boards needed to mount the garden tools on. Its a swift visit and we have time to drop into a garden centre to get some food. We are soon home again and into the garden. I gather up the tools I need and get to work fixing the boards in position. It all goes surprisingly smoothly and by late afternoon all I need is the tool hooks to arrive. While I wait I draft the blog with the England under 21s playing the Dutch in the semi final of the under 21s European cup. They win! So the evening meal is eaten and my tool hooks still have not arrived. Time to sort out the rest of the week as my son and family are now in town. I eventually take myself to bed full of night meds and still sore from Mondays jab.

Tuesday and there is one thing on my mind, clear the garden and get all the stuff I am gong to keep in the new shed. So as my partner gets ready to go and visit her mother with her brother I take my vitals and get dressed for a days graft in the garden. My partner sounds rough as she says good by. I take my morning meds and update my blood pressure data base so I have an up to date average blood pressure to give “he who made a pact with the devil” at my oncology review tomorrow. I also looked up how far the Boat Race is in kilometres, the answer is 6.8 kilometres and the record for a burly eight men and one cox is 16 minutes and 14 seconds. That means on a good half hour session on the rower I do a Boat Race! As I do at least 45 minutes or 60 minute sessions I am rowing at least 3 to 5 Boat Races a week ! I’m 77 in 12 days time. I therefore declare myself as “not doing too badly” With all this out of the way I begin the big clear out and the loading of the new garden shed.

So this is me until well gone 4:30 in the afternoon and I am knackered. But the satisfaction of having cleared the garden and got the shed loaded as well as the Hippo bag is immense. I flop onto the recliner and let the fan cool me down as I start to draft the blog. My partner having returned has taken a long afternoon nap to try and fight off her sore throat and other symptoms. Here are the fruits of my labour:

By 6pm I am cool finally and the blog has progressed all I need to do now is eat and rest. There is still preparation to do for tomorrows oncology review but keeping moving today has helped stave off the usual post injection pain. I need to get the view that I have angina off the record and to be direct about where I am at in terms of continuing on my current chemo, but biggest of all is the result of the bone scan. So I prepare a list of questions and a supply of data. With that done I can focus on a football match , a shower and an early night with my night meds. I have checked my Uber App and account so that I can Uber it to and from the hospital tomorrow, I am not even going to attempt to park at either the hospital or the city centre car park, someone else can take strain. So now its pizza for me and the dash to night meds and sleep.

Monday and its a jab Monday. I get up, shower, clear the dishwasher and take my morning meds. I take my partner a tea and then move my car off the drive as today is also shed delivery day. With this flurry of activity done I head for the GP surgery. I meet a friend their and we chat about extensions and how getting older we have body charts where we mark off the bits of us that have required attention. He is here to have bloods taken and I am here to have my 28 day jab. He goes in first and then I follow when I am called by an unfamiliar nurse. This not good news as my regular nurse knows what a large and sticky injection my Firmagon is.

As I suspected this nurse is not a Firmagon expert so when it comes to jabbing me with the stuff there is a moment of hesitation followed by a comments about it not wanting to go in. I make idle chat about how much of it there is and it is always a slow job getting it all in and mention, what feels like, the duck egg lump I get left with after the jab. Eventually there is an “ah ha that’s better” as she gets the hang of it. She tapes a cotton wool ball on my gut and then books me in for the next one. I leave and and saunter home collecting a paper and some goodies on the way.

Once home I settle down to do the days cross words and as I am almost through them the Shed delivery flatbed parks up on the drive and one bloke gets out. There is the ceremonial giving of a cup of tea, a passing of the niceties and then single handed he start to unload the van. He carries large panels single handed to the garden, spots dog poo, (we have no dog), and asks for the washing line to be taken down. I offer help but he says he will only need help with the doors. He gets on with it, while I hover and he manages. I do try to help with the side with the doors on but I am no help and he does it on his own mostly from then on. It seems to me to be cruel and thoughtless to send one man to move all the panels and to erect a 8 x 7 shed on his own.

I notice he is unloading roofing felt and go out to him to ask what he is doing as I ordered a solid roof specifically to avoid having to re-felt the roof in future years. He rings the company and there is a conversation at the end of which it is agreed that the roof will be solid but will need to be ordered and arrive in about a week, in the mean time it will be felted and I will not be charged extra. By a quarter past one he was gone.

Over the next hour I sweat and get the flooring down and the racking installed complete with shelves. Its a bit of wrestle as the WD40 used to ease the racking joints together has made them slippery and I had to re-erect one of the racking units. Eventually I get them in and lock up the new shed, I am tired and getting sore from my jab, I will relocate my garden tools later when it is cooler. For now I am pleased.

I put the washing line back up and clear away the tools and then find key rings for the shed keys. With this done and my partner home from the gym we sit and have a late lunch snack and I start to draft the blog. Before I can get going though my partner and I check that our computer system is working on Teams by her sending me a call onto my laptop. There are sound issues but we eventually get everything working so that my partner can do her singing lesson tonight. Half way through this Tesco deliver so its all hands to the pump to squirrel everything away and I can resume drafting the blog. Interspersed with this activity a meeting is arranged with Ruler’s Wit who I think I now have to call my publishers.

By the early evening meal I am taking paracetamol to ward of my injection soreness and the growing side effects, but I am still hopeful of getting something’s into the new shed this evening. What does not get moved tonight will have to wait till tomorrow and whether I feel up to it. I need to put in the hanging beam to accommodate the garden tools like spades and hoes but other stuff can be put in out of the weather. No doubt I shall dose up with paracetamol tonight in order to sleep as well as I can tonight, I already feel myself short of spoons and needing to rest.

Saturday and its a poetry stanza day, so after taking my vitals, all okay, I get up and prepare to go to the Stanza. Its very hot so I putter about doing small but useful things like checking my tyres and sorting my dosettes. There are messages from the Ruler’s Wit team about doing further work with them, so in the future there may be a lunch time meeting. I am hoping that this collaboration continues to be fruitful. The time comes to travel so with my twelve copies of a poem I drive to the venue only to find it cannot be used. A couple of the Stanza members are at the venue and we walk down together to St Dionysius church where we are told we can meet.

As I walk down to the church I am frantically trying to remember whether my poem has an expletives in it, as it might be cruel to ask someone to be reading Fuck out loud in the quiet of a church. When we get to the church it turns out that we are sitting in a side aisle in a circle of chairs. Of course being a church it is open to the public so from time to time during the afternoon odd members of the pubic popped in and out, I could not help wondering what they thought they might be interrupting. There are twelve of us this month and a good collection of new works. I feel reasonable today but I am anxious for a while till I discover there is a toilet in the church. It comes to my turn and I hear my poem read aloud and find myself surprised to hear the tempo at which it is read. I receive my feedback and then make my comments. Here is what I took, I’ve probably posted it before but for timeliness I repeat it.

449

Pull; pull; pull;
pull; pull; pull;
this is a man at war, 
trying to save himself. 
Pull; pull; pull.
This is the effort required 
to fend off chemo effects.
Every muscle, every joint
stretched and contracted
to keep the rhythm going.
Pull; pull; pull;
the metronome needs to tick 
there can be no stopping
until the clock runs down,
till the figures on the monitor
tell the story of kilometres,
of calories and strokes. 
Then and only then can it stop.
This is how the relentless malady 
is faced and challenged.
In every pull defiance,
In every pull conatus.
Pull; pull; pull.

449 17-06-2025

At five a clock a woman on a mobility scooter throws us out, but not before I buy the latest published pamphlet from one of the group and have her sign it. She is a well know poet and writes poetry that I could never write, so knowing how she approaches what she write and the work she puts into finding the right words and the effort to craft her work I appreciate the new poems.

With my new signed pamphlet tucked under my arm I recover my car and drive home to tea and an evening of quietly watching TV and reading. Of course there are the night meds to take, a finger splint to don and a nights sleep to get.

Sunday and I wake up and get myself going for the Sunday weight in. I come in at 101.2 kilos. This has been my average weight for sometime now so I am content this Sunday morning. After breakfast and some updating of the family calendar I take my car to the local garage and fill the tank and then I go and use the car wash for the first time. Its really three jet washes in one, so I put my time in, pay and then get to work on the car. After ten minutes my car is cleaner than its been for a while, unfortunately it shows up the dints, scratches and other blemishes. Back home my partner and I set to work on the garden, I prepare the area around where the new shed base in preparation for the new shed being delivered tomorrow. There is dead heading to do before lunch during which I start t draft the blog and watch the men’s final at Queens. As I do so I am also waiting for the first hard copies of my new poetry collection to arrive. Somewhere there is an Amazon delivery person working their way to wards me.

At last Amazon deliver copies of my new book and I eagerly open them. It is a special moment and immediately I know this book is much better than the Americans produced. Ruler’s Wit the new publishers have done a really good job. The feel and the look of the book is so much better. There has been some. moving around of the content and it feels so much better for it. Having now got the book I am eager to work with Ruler’s Wit again.

I decide to bite the bullet and to train so I get into my kit and go to the garage and the rower. I select a 45 minute session and get going. Its a fast and furious row, not a persona best but a really descent session, well over 9 kilometres.

After the session I record it in my journal and then change into comfortable clothes. Tea follows and then I continue the blog until its time to take my night meds and prepare for my 28 day jab in the morning. It will be a race against time as the new shed is coming at 11am and I will need to get everything back into the new shed before my injection site gets sore along with the other side effects. Its going to be a restless night.