Monday, I wake and despite my protestations about not watching the Super Bowl I did stay up to watch the first half, by which time I was bored with what was up until then a boring defensive game. So I wake tired and when I check my news feed find that the Super Bowl turned in to a nail biting classic. I have no regrets about missing it, as a sporting spectral goes there is not a lot of sport that goes on, almost everyone is more interested in the celebrity crowd and the half time entertainment. Give me a full blooded rugby game any day, no padding, no helmets just flesh on flesh brutality and speed. Needless to say I wake up a tired. I follow my normal routine once I have been brought my now usual mug of hot water. The cyber check gets done and I do my vitals, again all good. So its a light breakfast with morning meds and a check there is no blood in my urine. Its thankfully clear so I settle down to spend ages searching the internet to understand what my Fn key does on my laptop keyboard in order to understand what is going on with my partners work laptop. I finally sort out my keyboard but my partners laptop is truly screwed so she will get a new one when she goes into work tomorrow. So by lunch time I am a bit more tech savvy. Having cleared the kitchen it becomes time to think about tonight’s crockpot meal and a smidgen of lunch. I’ve asked the American book people to contact me today to finalise what it is they are supposed to be doing, if they do not show that will be it as far as I am concerned, I shall switch to an English company who I know have produced the goods for one of my partners colleagues and cut my losses.

My afternoon passes, mostly with me researching the local parish counsel. My partner has expressed a preference for where my ashes will be put, so I am trying to sort out having my sisters ashes placed in the same place. It turns out the local parish counsel has to have a burials officer, so I need to be contacting him soon or get a local funeral director to do all the bureaucratic crap for me.

The evening comes around when I eat a meal with my partner before she goes out to see a friend and my eldest daughter goes of train. I am alone at home so indulge in watching the third of the original Star Wars films. If only they had not invented the Ekwok, but all in all its stood the test of time quite well. I return to the blog to finish drafting it. At some point this afternoon I wrote a poem, another of my more recent darker ones. Bizarrely I get an invitation to a book and writers fair in Los Angeles from the American book people, they really do not get it. I’ve given them a time to ring me tomorrow at their request so I will see if this one last shot actually works, if not I will walk away. I am running out of time and need to switch to an English publisher soon. For now its time to take my night chemo meds and head for bed.

Inner strength, it’s what counts

Sunday and I wake from a deep sleep feeling slightly disorientated. Of course it being a Sunday I weigh myself. 99.3 kilos comes up, exactly the same as last Sunday, so at least I’ve held steady for the week which is good given that I have not been able to bring myself to train this week. Fear of what it might do to me is probably the reason, I can’t face the distress of peeing blood that often. Once in a while if I have trained to hard is almost acceptable but not when it is induced by very little activity. So 99.3 will do this Sunday.

My partner is reading her Kindle and sipping tea when I climb back into bed and begin to sip the hot water she has brought me. We fall to chatting, me reminiscing about my infant school days where all I can remember learning is some basic basket weaving and how to make a recorder from a length of bamboo and a cork. The woman teacher who had both pitch perfect hearing and the ability to cut the shelf of the recorder with a Swiss Army knife with unerring accuracy was the person who taught us these handy life skills. On the other hand a genial Mr Ballack instilled in me the wonder of science when he demonstrated the the strength of air pressure by getting us to try and dislodge a spread out newspaper by hitting a ruler slid half way under it on a desk. All those 28 pounds of air pressure per square inch was to much for our juvenile bodies to move. Out foxed by something invisible seemed magic to my child mind. Unfortunately learning in school was not all demonstrations and as it increasingly demanded that such wonders required the ability to read and write my curiosity got sabotaged by my unrecognised dyslexia. It meant I gravitated to art and ball sports and increasing humiliation at the hands of adults and peers alike. I suppose my delinquency was predictably, but I was lucky my delinquency was primarily of the mind and not of the physical violent or thievery type, give or take a bit of shop lifting or the collection of car club badges of the front of cars. My best one ever was a Butlins Car Club one with a diving woman on it.

Anyway my partner and I agreed that school years were not the best years of our lives. Of course on a Sunday morning this conversation turned to the meaning of life and what on earth we are doing here. Predictably we did not find a definitive answer at all and we wandered about in conversation like I guess millions of others have done. At the end of the conversation the only thing I got in my head was the possible reason that sea otters hold hands is that they are not doing anything attached to surviving the wind and currents of the sea but where in fact securing themselves from loss while in the ocean of meaning seeking. With that I measured my vital, all good, and then got up to have breakfast with my partner. I’m not at my best today but I help change the bedding on our bed and then clamber into my partners car and go to the gym with her. She goes up on the gym floor and I start to write todays blog and decide what poem to take to next weeks poetry stanza meeting. I have things rolling around inside me that need writing, as usual I am not sure what they are but I know its in there somewhere waiting to get out, I just need to be patient and let it arrive in its own time.

As for the rest of the day, there may or may not be a rugby international to watch, but I already know that I will not be staying up to watch the Super Bowl, a 23:30 kick off is too late for me, especially when there is so much tedious razzmatazz that goes with it that the actual game almost becomes an irrelevance. My evening consists of a roast dinner, a face to face call with my youngets daughter and then I sank into TV and the up dating of tomorrows Tesco order. As I carry out my Tesco chore I feel my energy spoons ebbing away so I know I am slipping into preservation mode, which means Call the Midwife and Death in Paradise, and then a retreat to bed. The reality turns out a bit different, in that my body clearly thought the activity of the day was too much and nudges me with its warning sign of a small amount of blood in my urine, so its back to downing a lot of water and seeing how things go. Tomorrow is going to be another see how it goes day.

Saturday and it drugs wallet filling time to see me through the next two weeks. So after a lean breakfast and a bit of a tidy up I sit down and perform my fortnightly drugs wallet filling chore. Its a fiddly chore but part of the organisation I’ve built around me to keep me going when things are tricky and I need to keep things simple.

My partner has gone to have her hair done so I start the blog for the day and get myself organised, there is food shopping to be done when my partner returns. On my partners return we go to a nearby garden centre for lunch and some chat. After a pleasant time we drive to the next garden centre where we food shop.

The late afternoon is spent watching the six nations rugby internationals, which takes me through to the evening, tea and more Jonathon Creek. As the evening goes on I feel my energy ebb away, until I take my chemo meds and take myself off to bed. Its been a reasonable day, and I need more of these to build my confidence back. It will take time and a few sessions back training again so its a longer term process.

Friday arrives, in fact “Foot Friday” arrives, today is the day I visit the chiropodist and indulge in the luxury of having my feet done by a professional. It is the only way I can keep my feet in good condition since my first bout of chemotherapy thickened my nails. So I spend little time on my usual waking rituals, pausing briefly to measure my vitals, which are once again okay, before jumping into the shower and getting myself chiropodist ready. A brief breakfast and I drive to the next village, park in the Co-op car park and wander over to the foot clinic. The chiropodist ushers me and I soon have my feet in a warm bowl of water, which is no doubt sterilising them. I’m on quite good terms with my chiropodist and we chat while she does my feet. Holiday plans, who Christmas went and the usual family gossip form our conversation. As usual by the end of my time my feet are very happy feet and feel just excellent. This is truly a real pleasure.

Before driving home I pick up a paper and some doughnut and herbal tea bags. Once home I settle down to do todays crosswords and indulge in a doughnut washed down with one of the new herbal teas. Not long after my successful completion of the crosswords, once again with out the aid of Google, my partner makes us cheese on toast and sliced apple. this is being a good and I am thinking about how I am going to amuse myself in the afternoon when I am deflated by finding blood in my urine again when I go for a pee, It seems the minimal amounts of walking are, at times, enough to induce this. I drink some water clear the recycling to the bin and them sit on the recliner drinking water and updating my Excel spreadsheet for my vitals. I use this to calculate my average blood pressure over each cycle of the current chemo. I do a quick check on the averages so far and find them to be normal and in line with the previous eight cycles to date. With my feet up and resting I draft the blog and sip water. I expect to be okay again in three to four hours, and then I can start again to plan to do things.

It is this element of my cancer that I find so difficult to cope with at the moment, it means I cannot train as I did before and therefore cannot do the one thing that holds the chemotherapy side effects at bay. It constrains what I can do and of course it is distressing to be passing blood. All I can do is rest, hydrate and ease myself back to activity as much as my body and cancer will allow, This is the invasive nature of cancer that grinds remorselessly on and challenges my resilience and ability to balance action with rest. It is also why, although not good for me I will “treat” myself to doughnuts or a bag of peanut M&Ms. There is a temptation to just quit and self indulge to an egregious degree but I like to think my better part of me holds me in check enough to hold some sort of balance between self denial and unbridled hedonism.

So for the moment I recline and rest sipping water and watching as the sun comes out. I will monitor how things go before contemplating what to do at the weekend. My evening is prosaic, one of TV and resting. I get to the point where I can’t face any more hot water and end my evening sipping 0%rum and ginger ale and taking my chemo meds. All I want is to sleep well tonight.

Thursday. I wake quite late and take my vitals, all good there, and then indulge in watching some more Tim Minchin before getting up. I watch him perform “I can have a dark side” live and “I’m a rock star” performed on tour. It lifts my spirits no end and get out of bed feeling more chipper than I have felt for a while. So a quick breakfast sat watching the pouring rain, sipping a herbal tea and I am ready for the day. I have a family tree to amend as one of my Scottish relatives has provided some dates of birth, after that the day is mine to play with. That’s the good thing about retirement, there is time to play with, one is only limited by your own creativity, energy and curiosity, plus of course the demands of the household and the real world around you.

I did a quick analysis of what the algorithm on my Google feed is providing at the moment. As it is allegedly based on what I view on the internet so it reflects my interests. It would appear I am basically a sports moron, as the majority of my feed is related to football, snooker, rugby, cricket and the occasional ice hockey game. Some Big Bang Theory ( the comedy series) appears from time to time alongside some actual astronomy and physics stuff. The rest of the feed is the usual pulp news paper crap that pads everything else out, a bit like life. It may be my age but I have no recognition of hardly any one dubbed a celebrity any more and as a consequence I don’t care a rats arse about the vast amount of pulp my media feeds push my way. I am resolved to start searching the internet for a much more arcane and bizarre content just to see what my media feeds start to push my way. So as a start I’m going to search for availability of places on archaeological digs and see how quickly this affects my news feeds. It seems I might have found a new hobby.

I spend my day writing a letter to a friend and filling in the family tree with the new dates of birth I now have. There is still some family document arching that needs doing but I will get to that in due course. I put my ear buds in to listen to some music and to block out my partners work conversations that are going on in the office. For a change I try Radio four and end up listening to the Thursday afternoon concert, it turns out to be really good, so good that I keep my ear buds in as I walk over to the post box to send my letters. I’m listening to Schumann’s Spring Symphony, which is new to me and quite a find.

Once home I settle into doing todays two crosswords and drift through them unassisted by google but interrupted by my bank wanting to know if I want to meet with their money advisor. I politely decline and return to the crosswords and reading the paper while still listening to the concert. I go to the loo and find that I have blood in my urine again. I was having a good day, not so good now. I down a pint of water and eat tea then down more water. This sets the tone of my evening, I watch the Avengers Endgame and drink back to back glasses water, with my feet up till bed time when I down my chemo meds and paracetamol. With luck and enough water I will be fine in a few hours, well enough to go to the chiropodist tomorrow and give my feet their two monthly treat. It is never easy, a day can turn on its head in just a few moment, this has been one of those days.

Wednesday and I am awake quite early and running through my usual checks on emails and cyber litter before taking my vitals. My blood pressure is all good as is my temperature and heart rate. I spend a bit of time watching some old Mock the Week compilations before getting up. I decide to take myself to the village café for breakfast picking up a paper on the way. I settle down to my hot chocolate and baguette as I get to grips with today crosswords. I take my time before heading home.

Once home I get into more comfortable clothes and sort out some of my clothes as my partner goes off to see her mother with her brother. The post arrives and there are two letters for. This is a real luxury so I make a coffee and settle down to read them. One of he letters is from one of my relatives in Scotland who has tried to contact me by email but unfortunately had a wrong address. I decide to send an email back and share with him the letters and information that I have shared with other members of the family in Scotland. It takes a while to do and then I move on to my second letter from a friend. She shares my disgruntlement at the difficulties at getting my book produced and on the Amazon platform. The letter is a real joy to read. I then have quite a long chat with my son over the intricacies of buy a replacement car where he is in Sweden. There is little left of the afternoon so I check my emails, which leads me onto some internet viewing before my partner returns.

One of the internet finds that made me smile

The evening arrives and I watch a semi final of the African Cup of Nations. I’ve taken it easy today as I am still sore from Mondays injection. This month has not been too bad as some of he side effects that I get have not been too bad his month and I have been able to stay of the paracetamol. Tomorrow I need to give the rower another go and to try and keep some fitness, I also have letters to write. It may depend on how the weather is as the forecast is suggesting early snow and sleet tomorrow and I need to keep warm.

Tuesday and I am lazy in getting up as my partner has gone to work. I do my now usual cyber checks, emails, bank accounts, WhatsApp messages and the rest of the cyber litter. Before I can get up or do my vitals my eldest daughter pops her head around the door to see how am am and to have a bit of a chat. Its a chance to catch up and hear what things in her world are up to. Post chat I do my vitals and get myself breakfast, clearing Daisy dishwasher as I go. I’m settling down to think about things and to write a bit when the garden guy rocks up. Not seen him since last year so we chat over coffee and herbal tea for a while before I retreat inside again and start to think again. My eldest daughter needs proof that she is the active executor of my deceased sisters estate so I have to dig around in the files to find a suitable document. After much rummaging and copying I find a court certificate that does the job. Its almost a year now since my sister died and still the paper work and admin goes on. I really must decide what to do with her ashes. I think I know what I am going to do now, I just need to get myself organised to make the arrangements. If all goes well my family will be spared that particular decision I just need time to make the arrangements.

Lunch comes around and I do soup and start to draft the blog inspired by a picture a friend sent me that seemed apposite to my situation. In fact to all our situations. So the bins are out, now I can crack on with letters and a bit more book preparation. I go one of my bored, screw it phases yesterday and decided to send a photo of how I actually am to shove on the back of the book cover, that may or may not exist. So below is how I actually look when I let my hair down. I friend said I looked like a rock and roll throw back except they are now all clean, sober and play golf. My god golf, perish the thought.

Well there you go, so close yet so far away on the book front. It turns into a wet afternoon so there I am hunkered down on the sofa writing letters and sticking a meal in the crockpot. I decide to abandon the crockpot idea and prepare a cottage pie ready for the family evening meal. My partner returns from work and we eat as a family before my eldest daughter goes off to a gig and I watch half a football match and two episodes of Trigger Point. During the evening I discover that 0%spiced rum tastes good with ginger ale. So as I run out of spoons I wash my night meds down with rum and ginger and finish off the blog before taking myself off to bed. I’m sore from yesterdays injection but I’m holding off taking paracetamol. Its a small gain in the fight but its a gain.

Monday, jab Monday so I take my time getting up. I check my messaging and cyber litter and then I take a long shower. A brief breakfast and I am as ready as I am going to be to take the walk to the GP surgery. I take my time walking down and check in with my jab tucked under my arm. I get called in quite quickly and I soon have a months worth of meds pumped into me. I walk home slowly picking up a paper on the way.

Once home I sit and do the days crosswords and then write letters. I pop across to the post office and post my letters and then return home to take a rest. My injection is becoming sore and so I take a time out, down some more paracetamol and try to rest. My partner finishes work and she joins me resting, which means we can have a chat and catch up, there is a lot going on. We decide to treat ourselves to take away and do the ordering while we wait for Tesco to deliver. Its a double bill of Silent Witness tonight which we watch while tucking into Indian and then squirreling the Tesco delivery away. Its an early night tonight, I down my meds and extra paracetamol, hopping for a restful night. Tomorrow is usually a sore day so lets wait and see.

Sunday and a slow start as after breakfast my partner goes to the gym and I putter about. I do very little other than write a letter to a friend, but I cannot get the printer to work, so I have a challenge ahead of me tomorrow. I check my vitals and then carry on with my day doing nothing in particular till the evening rolls around and I share a meal with the family and watch TV in the evening. Of course this is all about reaching the evening, doing the Tesco order and then preparing for tomorrow, for tomorrow is jab Monday. That means not only taking my chemo but taking the prophylactic paracetamol to stave off the jabs side effects. I know that the jab gives me a couple of tricky days so I think my Sunday has been deliberately quiet to prepare. So one of those apparently mundane days that has the under current of cancer running through it. Tomorrow will see how well I manage the walk to the GP as it was the walk round the village that induced the last bout of blood in my urine so I am understandably cautious.

Saturday and I wake up feeling a bit better. My partner and I have breakfast before she goes off to have her feet pampered. For my part I do chores and take my vitals, good again. By the time I’ve got my washing in my partner has returned and we go for hot chocolate at our local garden centre. My partner and I chat about how I am and the possibilities of seeking a second opinion about my cancer. In our conversation I noted that the message from the medics is that they have no cure and that it is all about palliative care, it feels like hope is torn away all the time. We return home and I settle down to watch the rugby matches and sort my washing.

Its a quiet evening of more rugby, food and a really violet film before I take my night meds and I take myself to bed. Its been a slow day as I try to build my confidence up again. At some point I need to decide to get back on the rower, but in the meantime I need to look after myself.