Saturday, todays the day I start my new chemo but not until I have met friends for a late lunch in the afternoon. So I start the day with a muesli breakfast and then I catch up with some admin related to my sisters estate. There is a STATs session to be done to complete my pre Chemo SATS record. It goes okay, and it seems all my figures are in the normal range. I load my car with some beads and a work box that I have promised to a friends crafting group and then drive off to meet my friends. It is lovely to see my friends and to eat a meal out with them. It is a time of change for several of the group and we chat and catch up with our news. At the end of the meal I hand over the beading box to my friend and then drive home dropping one of my friends off on the way.

By the time I get home there is a chance to do my second SATs reading of the day and then its the European cup final. I watch the game and then start to draft the blog while half watching Have I Got News For You. Its time to take my first new Chemo drugs. I am apprehensive having read all the information that has been sent me by the oncologist coupled with all the additional monitoring that is being required. The message is one of toxicity but then the experience of people taking it is wide ranging so it feels like I am about to play medical Russian roulette. Saturday nights all right for a fight and Rocket is up for it. See you on the other side.

Friday. Awake at 9 o’clock and doing my SATs soon after. Breakfast of toast and the then I fill up my drugs wallets with my new chemotherapy drugs. They come in some cool packaging but still look menacing to me.

Chore done I head for the garden. I focus on the front garden for hours in order to clear it of weeds and prepare to plant out the seedlings in the greenhouse. I flog away at it all morning until my partner feeds me at lunch time. Then I am back at planting out and tidying up in general. Along the way I take pictures of the amazing flowers that are appearing in my garden.

Eventually I run out of steam and retreat indoors and do another set of SATS to see how I am after all my gardening efforts. They turn out okay so I decide to grit my teeth and go for a training session. I change into my kit and get in the garage. I set up a half hour session. It goes quite well given my training schedule this week and I end up making my standard goals for half an hour.

Back at the sofa I record the session and then go and shower before going out for a meal with friends. Its a really pleasant evening, good food, good company and good conversation. On getting home I draft the blog, take my night meds, then I head for bed. Tomorrow is going to be a long day but will end with me starting my new chemotherapy. Scary but necessary. So this is the end of Armed and Ready and the beginning of Chemo II.

Thursday and I wake after a reasonable nights sleep. It looks like sunshine, which is cheering. I go to the spare room and do a blood pressure and SATs rehearsal. It goes okay so I go downstairs and make breakfast. I get my kit bag ready to go to the gym and sort out some admin. I go to the front door to get my shoes adn to my surprise I find a parcel in the porch. I’ve no idea what it is. On closer inspection I note that the funeral directors address is on the label adn then it dawns on me, this is my sister ashes. I am stunned and no idea what to do with them, frankly I cannot face opening the parcel and put it away unopened in my wardrobe. I go to the gym perplexed.

At the gym I get up on the gym floor and get a cross trainer. I set myself up for an hours session and set off with Rammstein in my ears, loud. I plod along and grind my way through the session, drinking water as I go. It is not my best session on a cross trainer but it has got me out of the house. I manage 6 kilometres and burn 600+ calories.

I cool down and et myself to the changing rooms and a long shower. As no one else is around I blow dry my hair and then head for the lounge. I’m fed up with cold drinks and decide on a hot chocolate and bacon roll. It is a very pleasant change and I enjoy them as I mull over the problem of what to do with my sister ashes.

I drive home, dump my gear and find a letter waiting for me. It turns out to be the copy of the oncologists letter to my GP outlining the fact that I am starting chemotherapy and all the things they should look out for. There is of course reams of paper all about how shit the experience could be not to mention life threatening.

Having noted that today is the day I am supposed to be starting my new drugs I phone up the specialist cancer nurses. They are not in so I leave a message. I’m wondering what I am going to do first in the garden when the cancer nurse rings back adn leaves a message. They can’t tell me if my drugs are ready but she gives me two numbers to ring. I phone the hospital pharmacy and they find my prescription. If I like to rock up after four o’clock I can collect my new drugs. I have not got long to wait before I can drive into town to collect them.

Once in town I park at a hotel car park and walk down to the hospital and to the outpatient pharmacy. The is a note that there is an average of a 45 minute wait. There is one desultory person to serve the new comers. I eventually get to the front of the queue and explain my presence and my needs. They get my name wrong and have to check my details against the letter I have taken with me. The person returns adn says she has found it and I should be called soon, I’m hot adn need a piss so the thought of waiting around is not appealing. I watch a dispenser going about his business of trying to figure out which tray of goodies is to be dispensed next, it is painful to watch. I am sure that there are protocols to be followed in dispensing drugs, but the lack of urgency or appreciation that there are very many people sitting out in the open air waiting area in the sun is staggering. I get called and my name and birthday get checked along with my address. A bag much bigger than I was expecting is pushed towards me. I am further taken aback when the guy says to me “Four to be taken once a day”. I think “did I hear that right”. I checked and I had. I take my bag of drugs and wander off to the main hospital reception to find a toilet. The first two I found were in a disgusting non flushable state. I ended up in the cancer centre. Now comfortable I walk back to the hotel car park and drive home, where the first thing I did was look at my new drugs.

I settle on the sofa and think about my day and when I want to start my new chemotherapy. I have two meals booked with friends on Friday and Saturday and of course there is the European Cup Final on Saturday night at 8pm. So I have decided to round my Saturday night of with the first blast of the new chemotherapy.

My evening continues with tuna pasta and the start of drafting the blog. Its been a busy day and my aim is to cruise gently through the evening and get to bed at a reasonable time. Tomorrow is a garden day if the sun shines.

Wednesday, I wake in the spare bed after a decent nights sleep with no headache. I’m slow to get up and check my mail and messages on the way. Breakfast and then I am off to the Shed where I write letters all morning. At lunch time I take a break to load my partners car with plants for her mothers patio pots. I also snap a couple of photos of things in my garden, the poppy are out and the butterflies are visiting.

After lunch I return to the Shed to continue to write letters. Eventually I stop writing and pack up the Shed and return to the house. I take a quick trip to the post box to send my letters on their way. Then I spend some time practicing taking my blood pressure and SATs. Once I am through with that I clear the kitchen and then change into my training kit. Today it has to be an hour. I set the rower up and get under way. Again it is a tough start and by half time I am a minute behind schedule. I put in some effort and by the end of the hour I have caught up and made my standard of 12 kilometres. So another tough session but it is medicine and it has to be taken.

I record my session and change into easy wear and settle down for the evening. I am having a boys night out, I order Indian takeaway, pour a 0%beer and watch West Ham win a European football final. My final act of the day is to take my night meds and draft the blog. I’m off to my bed and will let tomorrow take care of itself.

Tuesday. A headache day. Started okay and was reasonable for a morning of paper signing. The probate papers get signed and I take them across to the post office to wing them on their way. Some men rob you with a gun others with a fountain pen. Once that was out of the way I returned to preparing for the task ahead of collecting my blood pressure, I have made up a journal to record the results alongside my SATs, heart rate and temperature so that I can refer to it quickly when the oncologist rings me. The sphygmomanometer is working as is the SATS and heart rate finger monitor. The thermometer required new batteries but is now working. Of course I give myself a trail run, it would appear that I am normal. I am going to practice each day now to get in to the swing of it all.

My afternoon is spent integrating the all the London house stuff we retrieved from my youngest daughter’s at the weekend into the stack of things we have here. I use some of the ear ring storage modules that I ordered and also order some more bracelet rolls to complete the integration. All afternoon I beaver away until I’ve got the number of boxes down to the minimum. I’ve no idea what I’m going to do with it all. By the time I have put everything away its gone five o’clock and there are chores to do. The bins get put out, the kitchen cleared and cleaned and then I cook myself an omelette and settle down to watch TV. I have a crap headache and just slob out until my partner returns from an after work meal date with a friend.

I draft the blog and take my evening meds along with some paracetamol, then retreat to bed in the hope that sleep will rid me of my headache. I’ve not trained, written letters or several other things that have “ought to” attached to them, but as a friend reminded me. what I’ve done to day will have to be enough.

Monday and it was a poor nights sleep, so I wake up groggy and mechanically go through my morning phone ritual of checking messages, mail and money. I get up, pack away my weekend clothes and then make toast and squash for breakfast to go with my morning meds. I search for some sort of solution to the numerous earrings and studs I have inherited, so I order some storage trays. One more step to being organised. I get my washing going and then I start to work on the sewing/jewellery work box that needs sprucing up and mending. The plan is to get it ship shape and to pass it on to a friend who runs a crafting circle in her village. Some of the beads will go with it so that if any of the circle want to start making jewellery they can. After hoovering it, filling the old screw holes with superglue and polishing it I can do no more until my new set of piano hinge screws arrive.

Having reached a natural pause its time to refill the squirrel feeder. The new young squirrels, two this year, are eating me out of house and home the rate they are going through the peanuts. I am impressed that they have both learnt very quickly to lift the lid to access the peanuts. I refill the feeder and then put in another load of washing. I’m feeling tired by now, not really tired but decidedly off it. I retreat to the sofa and start to draft the blog until my partner brings me a lunch time snack. A friend messages me and shares some information, it would seem that at last someone is being clear with her employer that long COVID is not a quick fix condition and that patience and rational thinking is required.

I feel decidedly not well and decide to make full use of the reclining sofa and have a nap. This I successfully do until the Tesco order arrives adn then its all hands to the pumps as my partner and I unload and squirrel away the goodies. I’m still feeling crap but I am irritated with myself at being like this and decide that I will train. Kill or cure really. So I get kitted up and go to the garage and strap myself into the rower. I can’t face an hour so I set it up for 45 minutes on my cruise level. So with Radio two in my ears I begin to row. It does not go well and my body is definitely not impressed but I row on, slowly. At one stage I thought I would fall short of my usual standard of 9 kilometres for this time. In the end I did not and I pulled over 1500 strokes, but I fell short of my 600 calorie target. Still my SATs was 98% at the end. At least I have taken my medicine for the day.

I return to the sofa and record my session in the journal. I want to get out of my training gear but I know if I do I will not get the washing in, so I head for the garden and round up the washing off the line. I take the fresh laundry upstairs and change just as the Amazon man delivers my piano hinge screws. I draft some of the blog before tea after which my intention is to finish the repairs on the sewing/ jewellery workbox.

Tea is eaten and then I get to work on restoring the sewing/jewellery work box, The long lid hinge needs to be reattached as does the lid restraint. I get the major things fixed and then I set about polishing and bees waxing it. By the time I have finished the box is looking quite good, I am pleased that the work has gone as well as it has.

I give the box a final polish and put it to one side and settle down for the evening. I return to the blog but also I start to make up a blood pressure monitor booklet that I can refer to when the oncology team start to monitor my blood pressure. I am hoping that our sphygmomanometer is still in good working order and will be giving it a test run soon. My aim tonight is to get to bed good and tired and hope for a consistent nights sleep. It is clear to me that my body is having trouble coming off both caffeine and the Bicalutamide at the same time but it seems to me the best thing to be doing. Those that know me know I like all my chaos in one go, I always thought that this maximises the potential for creativity and adaptation and so far it seems to have worked.

Sunday and once again I wake in the youngest daughters spare bedroom on a sunny morning. My youngest daughter comes and sits on the end of the bed and we chat all things, work, house, car, money and of course most importantly, the coming baby.

The family has breakfast bacon rolls and I continue to organise the things that have been brought from the London house and need to come back to Leicester with us. Eventually everything is sorted and packed into bags, so while lunch rolls are being made I load the car up. The family picnic in the garden and prepare for the drive back. Having miraculously got everything into the car we set off for home in the bright sunshine. It turns out to be a very good drive back, how motorways should work. There is one quick comfort break and then we are home and unpacking the car.

Of course I go and look at the seedlings in the greenhouse and water them. The sun shine over the last couple of days has meant that new blooms have appeared. There is a profusion of new flowers in the garden. It never ceases to amaze me.

I return to trying to sort out all the things that were brought back to Leicester. The bead necklaces I put into new jewellery rolls as I do the several strings of pearls. Eventually I stop the sorting and start to draft the blog and then stop again for dinner. My evening continues with the blog and background TV. I am fighting a headache. Since I stopped drinking coffee my body has rebelled and as a result I’ve been getting headaches. So I shall see this evening out, take my evening meds and go to bed in the hope of sleeping through as long as possible. Tomorrow I can start again sorting through the family memorabilia and history.

Friday, nothing to say really other than the morning was spent preparing to drive to see my youngest daughter and her partner and the afternoon was spent driving. The drive was the usual flog down three motorways with a single stop but at least the sun shone. On arrival we sat in a sunny garden, drank lemon squash and chatted our way to pizza and an evening of going through lots of things they had brought back from the London house. This included my grandfather’s first world war medals and his army paperwork. After eight years in India as a professional soldier he bought himself out for £35 and avoided being sent to Ireland. At the end of the day we retired to a normal size double bed which was interesting. The alert amongst you will have noted the absence of coffee from the blog. This is because I have given it up. Much as I love a really good cup of coffee it is a variable in increased blood pressure. As my new cancer drug has as its major side effect raised blood pressure (hence the regular monitoring) I thought it wise to drop coffee. It is one thing I can do to help my situation. Once again my need to take what control I can comes to the fore. Always I need to think about what is happening to me and try to use what knowledge I have or can gain to give myself the best chance of the best possible outcome. That I think is what a reasonable, rational, existentially informed adult should do, take responsibility! I take my night meds and settle down for the night in a normal size double bed. Its been a long but satisfying day.

Saturday I wake in the strange bed after a night of my usual cycle of getting up in the night. I take some time to check messages and mail, With that done I catch up with the blog from yesterday and then return to the family to have breakfast. I spend all morning going through albums and packets of photographs along with a lot of documents which capture the history of my family for the last three generations. Unknown facts about relatives come to light and there are hundreds of photographs of some very old relatives and of course of my own history. By lunch time I am bent under the weight of family memories and questions and I am pleased to break and eat lunch with the family in the garden. There is a little more looking at things retrieved from the London house before we go on a trip to one of the lakes in the forest.

We take a sedate stroll around the lake and then indulge in ice cream as we sit at a picnic bench and watch the family of goslings wandering between the benches. One young gosling comes in our direction and pretty soon we have it eating morsels out of our hands. I do not know exactly why there is such a strong urge to make this kind of contact with wild animals but the satisfaction of doing so is immense. Even if it s fleeting there is something special about it. Of course once we ran out of crumbs to feed our gosling it ran back to its peers and returned to following its mother around the lake edge.

We drove back to my youngest daughters house and settled down in various rooms for the rest of the afternoon. I watched the second half of the cup final and then I returned to sorting out more of the oddments of jewellery that needed to be identified. I beavered away at this until it was time to change and drive to the pub for dinner. The Butcher’s Arms is comfortable enough and as its a treat I order stake. The meal is good and the family sit and chat about work, babies, pregnancy, phones and anything else that fell across or paths. A good evening meal indeed. I pay the bill and we return to my daughters where I am massaged with a wicked machine. I am in hope that my birthday might be blessed with such a machine. I check my messages and find a photo of my friend and her family at Pride. They look very happy and having a good time. I recall a conversation I had with her about how lucky I was to be able to take my daughters to Africa to see the big animals n which she reminded me that she could not do that for her daughters as being gay in Africa was in many areas illegal and in some punishable by death. That conversation always put things into perspective for me. I continue to draft the blog while everyone settles down and prepares for an early night. I am perplexed as to what is the best way forward with all this family “treasure”. It feels that I have the responsibility of making sure the family history is preserved and enhanced before I am not around any more to do it. This is where the ripples matter and where for some their ripples peter out. It feels like a big responsibility. I take my meds and go to bed no closer to any answers.

Thursday June the 1st. I wake, I get up, I sing, I make breakfast. I then spend my morning installing the safe I bought from Amazon, which they delivered yesterday. As always there were hiccups along the way but eventually I get it fixed to the wall. I then spend time loading it with what I want in it. Its noon by the time I finish the task and get all the tools and impedimenta away. I get a drink and then spend a few minutes to get the days blog started. Along the way I note my blood result are in. These will form the baseline for the new toxic beast once I start on it next week. So here they are. The obvious issue is the galloping PSA, but then that’s what the new weapon is for.

I run off fresh record sheets and then answer some emails to do with the London house. I decide to email the Australian glass maker who I think might have made a peace of glass that was my sisters. I send photos and a brief question. A friend rings me to tell me how a meeting with Occupational Health has gone and how things stand at the moment. It is a difficult position to be in and it is draining. We chat for a while till my friend goes to get lunch and a rest. Its time to train but I feel crap and have a raging headache, however it is medicine and needs to be done. I take a couple of paracetamol and go and get changed. Once in the garage I strap into the rower and set myself up for an hors row on my cruise level. the start is slow, very slow and my body complains at the effort. I persevere and eventually I get going. For a while I do not think I will make my normal target in terms of either distance or calories burnt. Towards the end of the session I am able to pick up the rate and by the end I have managed to reach 12 kilometres, over 2000 strokes and 800+ calories burnt.

At the end of the session I am knackered and sit on the sofa recording the session. I watch the garden guy beavering away outside and ultimately wave to him as he leaves. Dinner follows and I continue to draft the blog still carrying my headache. My evening is going to be a slow one topped of by an early night. Tomorrow I drive down to see my youngets daughter and her partner. It might be the last time I get to see her before she produces our grandson in July. So tomorrow I have to prep the car, pack and then drive.

Wednesday and I am woken with a coffee at about eight thirty. I am not sure how I feel. I get up and and make an egg sandwich and lemon squash. There are lot of small things that need to be done but I head for the Shed for the first time in a long while, or so it feels. I write letters all morning and fins that am using my last stamps. During the morning I have a WhatsApp conversation with my youngest daughter about a music box we found at the London house. It starts with the recognition that there is someone who specialises in the refurbishment of music boxes and then of course we both go on the internet and start to research our music box. It turns out to be a classic by a famous maker in the 1800s and selling at quite high prices.

I send an email to the music box repair man with some photographs and ask about refurbishment. By lunchtime I get a reply and find out that our music box is indeed genuine. He tells me that it is a double roll pianoforte version and a very nice box. He explains that costs of refurbishment. The quote runs into thousands, so there is a decision to be made. I wonder if its possible to crowd found a refurbishment. I pack up the Shed and return to the house to find my partner going off to see her mother. I lunch on chicken soup and then wander over to the post office to send my letters and to buy in some chocolate treats.

My afternoon as a long procrastination. I know I must train but I find all sorts of things to do to avoid it. I empty the bins, play loo roll fairy, fill the bird and squirrel feeders and tidy the kitchen. A friend calls and we chat about a meeting she has been to in the morning. It is clear that her journey back to work after long COVID is a difficult one and full of organisational hurdles. We talk until it comes time for her to collect her children. I am almost out of distractions when Amazon deliver the small safe I ordered yesterday to accommodate some of the things that we have accrued over the last few weeks. I spend time finding a place that the new safe can be housed so that it can be anchored to the wall properly. I jettison a pile of old socks to make room and then site the safe. No time to anchor it tonight as we have a guest staying tonight. That’s going to be a tomorrow job now.

I can no longer avoid training and now I feel tired. I change into my kit and get into the garage. I decide to up the resistance level and cut the time. So at level 5 I set off to do 30 minutes. It turns out that I am out of practice at level 5. The initial pulls are a surprise and very hard work, so I get the message early on that this is going to be a tough session. I end up getting to my 6 kilometre target and over 400 calories.

I record my session and make a cold drink which I have with my partner and our guest who has arrived. They soon leave to go and eat out, I change and cook my tea and then settle in to start to draft the blog. Tonight there is a football final to watch so I shall do that and then see if I have time to include the time line of the blog into it tonight as I said I would.

BLOG TME LINE & PHASES

• Welcome all.                            01-09-2019                             1 day
• Induction Day                          02-09-2019                             1 day
• Chemo Day                              03-09-2019 – 05-01-2020  124 days
• Fingers Crossed phase             07-01-2020 – 23-03-2020 77 days
• As Good As It Gets Phase         24-03-2020 – 08-02-2021   322 days
• Antiandrogen                            22-12-2021 -22-02-2022     63 days
• As Good As it Gets Again          23-02-2022 – 31-10-2022  251 days
• Rocket                                       01-11-2022 – 21-12-2022      51 days
• Rocket Booster                          22-12-2022 – 06-03-2023   42 days
• Run up to Radiotherapy            07-03-2023 – 17-05-2023      72 days
• No Mans Land                           18-05-2023 – 29-05-2023      12 days
• Rearmament                              30-05-2023 –           

As promised the time line. I’m off to bed I can’t stand the insensitivity. Meds for me and some peace and quiet.