Tuesday and I wake up to find my partner not feeling well. So its an early breakfast and then I run my partner to the GP surgery for her appointment. We visit the chemist on the way back home. My partner goes back to work in the office and I get on clearing up the kitchen and generally tidying my stuff up. There are emails from the solicitor and the funeral directors. So its a morning of death admin until midday when a friend rings and we have a brief chat about how we are and what is going on in our families. I find these conversations a real support given what is going on at the moment. Lunchtime arrives when I treat myself to a fried egg sandwich.

Post lunch I sit down and begin to type out what I am going to say at my sisters funeral. I tap away looking for inspiration. The words do not come easily but eventually I end up with something that maybe acceptable. I expect that it will be changed before it gets spoken on Friday. I resort to a little light hoovering and cleaning for light relief. My solicitor rings me and we wrestle with the difficulties of getting people and their passports to her in person. Its a difficult teaser which I cannot solve immediately. I decide to train, its the last thing I want to do but it is necessary if I am to prepare properly for the possibilities of radiotherapy. Before changing in to my kit I put the bins out and bring the car in. I change and get into the garage and set up the rower for a 45 minute session at my cruise level. Its a bitch of a session and I struggle to get going but I grit my teeth and grind through the time. I manage 9 kilometre thanks to a burst of effort in the last third, and I scrape a 600 calorie burn.

I record the session, change in to my lounge wear and eat tea. The celebrant rings me and shares what he intends to say at the funeral. Its sounds okay to me and I suggest a couple of amendments and check another inclusion. I am now spoonless and stare at the TV for a while before I draft the blog. I am slipping into a torpor and feel I am just drifting towards the Friday funeral, however I need to lively up in order to do the things I need to get through the next four days effectively. So night meds and bed for me.

Its Monday again and I wake up feeling decidedly shit. Difficult to say why but I felt knackered before the day even started. I felt so grim I could not be bothered to read before I got up. When I did I head straight for the muesli and coffee. I find I am losing my taste for coffee, at least the tinned brand we are using, I might go back to the luxury of filtered coffee, I’m not sure why I left it, now that I think about it. Before my morning gets into the full swing that’s it going to a friend calls to see how I am. Really good to hear a friendly voice and we are soon chatting about our respective juggles. I am reminded that Easter is not far away and note that it might have slipped by without this conversation. We exchange well wishes as I intend to head for the Shed to try and write the words I am going to say at my sisters funeral on Friday.

I do not make it to the Shed as I have several emails and calls from the undertaker. I find myself proof reading an Order of Service, swapping pictures around, and sending new or duplicate pictures to someone new because they cannot use my PowerPoint presentation as its not “their format”. Its all part of the fannying, farting and fucking about that seems to attend any project or organised event. By the time there is time to breathe its lunch time and the kitchen needs to be cleared, cleaned and organised. Bins get emptied and things made spick and spam and then I indulge in chicken soup.

My afternoon starts with me trying to book my 28 day injection with the GP. I remained being asked to hold for 14 minutes, which seemed like and eternity. I finally got through and agreed a time. I then order my monthly drug prescription. So easy to forget I have to manage my meds at times like these. With this out of the way its time to clear the clothes horse and put my clothes away. A moment to breathe I organise a bit and buy tickets for Fascinating Aida in November. I escape to the garden and fill the bird and squirrel feeders and whilst doing so note that the Peonies are coming through. This is a time of celebration as Spring is truly on the way when the Peonies start to grow, and they grow quickly from small red nodules to sturdy stems in a vey short time.

I finally get to the Shed and stare out over the garden looking for words. It occurs to me that the Japanese have a character for “beyond words”, it is Yugen. I start to write Yugen and end up with a few draft words for my sisters funeral. They will need work but it will get there. Returning to the house I am aware of how time has gone and I have not trained and Tesco are going to deliver. Added to that the Celebrant is going to ring me tonight about the funeral so there is still a lot of admin left in the day to do. I plump for training. It is a real effort to get my kit on, I really do not want to do this but I fall back on one of my reminders “Cancer does not take a day off”. I go to the garage and set up the rower for a half hour session at my standard hard level. I strap in and get going with radio 2 in my ears. It may only be a half hour session but it is hard work and I feel that I am not on track. In the end I get my 6 kilometres and a 1000+ strokes. Not quite the calories I wanted but it will do.

Back on the sofa I record the session and slow go and get changed in to loungers. My partner and I wait for the Tesco delivery that duly arrives. Time for pasta and then I start to draft today blog. I’m still waiting for the Celebrant to ring me, but I assume he will and then I can get on with the rest of the evening. It will be filled with a TV show and reading before I take my meds and head for bed. Hopefully I will l have tomorrow to finish my writing and to train.

Sunday, a day of rest but first their is the Sunday weigh in. Crucial this week as this has been the first week of concerted effort both in terms and exercise and diet. I step onto the scales and await the outcome. I look down anxiously, no change would be very dispiriting. It is 97.6 kilos. Yippee. That’s down 1. 3 kilos this week. Its a good start and encouraging. The maintenance of the effort will be the true challenge. There is time for a short read as the time has leapt forward today as its the start of summer time .

Breakfast is a simple muesli affair before my partner and I have a face to face call with our youngest daughter and her partner. It is the first time we have talked to them since they discovered that they are having a boy in July. Overly influenced by Terry Pratchett books I’ve decide that my grandson to be will be called Dangerous Beans, at least until he puts in an appearance in due course. There are chores done, including ordering flowers for my son’s partner whose birthday is tomorrow, and then I and my partner go to the gym, she to train and me to shower and read. I sit reading Touch and sipping black coffee, and so the afternoon passes. My partner re-emerges and we drink more coffee and nibble toast and jam. My toast being donated to me. I drive us home in time for the England v Ukraine European qualifier.

The evening starts with an England win, a beef stew and a start to the drafting of the blog. Its going to be a slow evening that will end with more reading, night meds and me going to bed hoping not to have to get up more than three times in a single night. Thinking about what I am going to say at my sister’s funeral on Friday is still keeping me awake at night. Tomorrow I will give myself Shed time to think about it properly.

Its a slow Saturday wake up with coffee and a read in bed before getting up. There are some papers that I get my eldest daughter to sign and I run off a covering letter. Together we go to the post office and send them off whilst buying eggs and bacon for breakfast. Back home my partner serves up a super breakfast and then its time for me to do my fortnightly drug wallets fill up. Its a bi Saturday ritual that ensures I keep my drugs on course for the immediate future. Its just a part of my cancer life that gets slipped in with the rest of my life.

With my drugs sorted I set about doing some more admin. There is a council tax demand for my dead sisters house to be dealt with and the subscription to Astronomy Today to cancel. With that done my partner and I go shopping for weekend food at the local garden centre. The usual stock of meat and veg are acquired and we return home in the showers that are now well established. I hang my washing out to dry and then settle down to watch a couple of rugby matches on TV. They turn out to be really entertaining. When ever I watch rugby it takes me back to my rugby playing days. There is a sense that I still know what it is like to step out onto a field and experience the physicality of competitive sport. It also reminds me it is better to be doing rather than watching. It motivates me when I am finding it difficult to make the effort. I tear myself away from the TV and go and get into my training kit. Today I decide that I cannot pussy foot around with my cruise level 4 on the rower anymore, I need to make the effort to up my effort. I set the rower for 45 minutes on level 5 and get on with it. I feel my shoulders and back complain quite quickly but grind my way through the time and end up pleased with myself for making it. 600 more calories gone.

I record the session, strip off my kit and then indulge in an old James Bond film while eating tea. The evening slides by and I start to drat the blog. Every so often the website does strange things. The usual one is reporting unexpected large site visitors and site visits. Apparently today 438 people have visited the site on 849 occasions. As much as I like to think the blog might have gone viral I know this will be one of those technical gremlins. So I continue to draft and will drift along with Midsommer Murders before taking to my bed with Touch and drift in to sleep. All week I have not eaten sweets, biscuits, chocolate or nibbles and I have trained consistently so I am hoping my first week of healthy abstinence will be reflected in my weight tomorrow morning. I really need it to be.

Friday and I wake up feeling crap, my body doesn’t like being deprived of sweets and chocolate. I grope my way up and down a muesli and milk breakfast. Coffee of course washes everything down including morning meds. I find it difficult to get going on anything so resort to more death admin. There are emails to respond to and redirected mail to deal with. British Gas has written to my sister noting that the direct debit has been cancelled and would she like to call them to keep her payments going. Clearly British Gas is so disconnected they are expecting to talk to a dead person. Its the sort of nonsense that would have made my sister laugh. The garden guy arrives md morning so I have my usual coffee and chat with him. Always an interesting discussion, actually more of an interesting listen. I have lunch with my partner and then I start to play “hunt the cameras”. I want to gather all the spare SD cards I have which should be with the cameras. I know they are in the house, but they are not where they should be, so what starts is a massive hunt for them. I look everywhere including the loft, the suitcases, the storage spaces, car boots and the garage. I am still looking when I get a call from a friend. It was unexpected and a lovely surprise. It was really good to catch up with my friend and to hear how her recent birthday went and all the things that her children are up to. After the call I continued to play “hunt the cameras”.

My partner makes me a coffee and we talk about the possibilities of what could have happened to our good cameras. Burglary is mooted, alien abduction and the supernatural are considered but at the end of the day we conclude the bloody things must be somewhere. My partner wanders into the hall and returns with a bag, a gym bag, a gym bag filled with cameras. There they were sitting in the hall in plain sight masquerading as a gym kit. With much relief I put the cameras back in their usual place and then start looking at what was on the cards. While doing this Touch arrives, this my new Claire North novel, so I have something to read.

Then comes a super message from my youngest daughter. she and her partner are expecting their first child and my grandchild. She is having a boy so I’m to have another grandson. He is going to arrive in July and will be the best possible birthday present for me.

The evening saunters into view, I eat tea, book a Tesco delivery and watch a rugby match. I draft the blog and look forward to an early night with my new book. So its early night meds and off to bed to read for me. I am still struggling to find the right words for my sisters funeral in a weeks time. I’m sticking to an “it will be alright on the night” outlook.

Thursday and I wake up feeling quite dozy. I get up and make toast and coffee, which I finish in time to move my car so my partner can go to see her mother. I check the hedgehog feeding station and to up the food before I set about my admin chores. So I write to the funeral director and include an SD card with materials for the funeral presentation. I run off copies of the solicitors terms and conditions that my daughters need to sign and send back to the solicitor. It all sounds straight forward but by the time I have juggled a printer and sorted out copies its almost lunchtime. A quick trip to the post office to get my documents in the post for delivery tomorrow and I am back home with a mug of soup and settle down with Terry Pratchett’s The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rats. I start and do not put it down till I’ve finished it.

The book is excellent and is another example of just how brilliant Terry Pratchett is at satire and social comment. My partner and I try to go and walk a local park but as we got out of the car the heavens opened and we retuned to the car and then home. Disappointed that I’ve missed out on a walk I get ready to train. I grit my teeth and get into my kit and make my way to the garage. I strap into the rower and hesitate as to how long the session is going to be. In the end I set the session for an hour. Its a hard session and more than once thought about shortening but in the end ground it out.

I record the session and then settle down to eat tea and start the blog but not before ordering Claire North’s Touch. England play Italy in the European qualification match. I’m on the sofa preparing to be disappointed.

Well that’s a turn up for the books, England win in Italy. I finish todays blog entry as I feel tiredness coming on fast. I take my night meds and retreat to bed in the hope of sleep and recovery. I’m still trying to regain my rhythm and a routine, apart from the exercise and diet I need some Shed time to seriously think what am going to say at my sisters funeral in a weeks time. Its of a preoccupation but come the 1st of April it will be done and I will be heading towards radiotherapy, hopefully.

Its Wednesday and again I wake up at Ragdale Spa and once again breakfast arrives at half past seven on trays. My partner and I eat once again looking over the country view and remark on how windy it was during the night. Having already showered I begin to pack my bags and leave them to be collected later and stowed till our departure. Donning my fluffy robe and flip flops I take my travel clothes to the Spa changing rooms and pop them in a locker till I need them later. At ten past nine I am laying jewellery less face up and having another lavender massage. Today my treatment person has a different technique, a more pull and tension on the joints technique. By the end of my session I am relaxed and smelling sweetly of lavender.

What follows is coffee and rose/ pistachio sponge cake till my partner goes off to have her feet pampered. I lay by the swimming pool and read to the end of my book until my partner returns. We go to lunch with me having changed into my travel clothes and have our last meal at the spa. After lunch coffee follows and then its time to pay off the rest of the bill and to retrieve our baggage. The drive home is smooth and I am soon unpacking adn trying on my new, and hopefully comfortable, black suit for the funeral. I took the opportunity get into my training gear and head for the garage and my familiar rowing machine. I’m tired before I start but this is the sort of battle that I must win over the coming weeks if I am to give myself the best chance of benefiting from the possible radiotherapy. It goes reasonably well and I burn 400+ calories.

I record my session and then changeout of my kit and have a short nap where my partner finds me. We chat and then eat and move into the evening. I read another new book, something lighter this time, The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rodents by Terry Pratchett. Its supposed to be for younger readers but of course it being Pratchett it is a book on many levels. The evening passes and after my night meds I go to bed.

Its been a good couple of days resting and being pampered. Its also provided time for reflection. Now I am back there is still funeral arrangements to be completed and legal papers to be signed for the solicitors. It is the pace at which I allow myself to move at that is crucial. Keeping on putting one foot in front of another and moving is the aim, slow but forward.

Tuesday and I wake up in the Ragdale spar and realise that I have about 20 minutes before breakfast arrives. Two people arrive bearing trays of our pre-ordered breakfast. So the day starts in style as we look out of our window over the surrounding countryside.

So the day starts and I am well pleased with my choice of breakfast. So in a short time the trays are cleared of their content.

My partner and I get ourselves ready for our “treatment”. We go down to the “treatment” centre and wait huddled in our fluffy white gowns until our names get called by our personal treatment person. What followed was delicious. My legs and back are exfoliated and then gently massaged with a lavender oil. Back done I turn over and have my front done. Finally I receive a foot massage. I end up in a kind of stupor and wander off to find my partner after her treatment. We go for coffee and I am decidedly fluffy and mellow. I’m so taken with the feeling that my partner goes off and books me a repeat for tomorrow morning. Touch is a wonderful thing.

Early lunch is order of the day once we have taken a bit of time to laze and read. Lunch is healthy and tasty and we are soon planning another coffee. Lunch has to settle before I can go to the gym but to the gym I do go. I get a rowing machine, a more sturdy affair than mine in the garage with a longer pull. I go for a 45 minute session, which I regretted after the first ten minutes but I persisted with the beast and end up making the time.

I wonder around the gym and try to cool down. Its a while before I get to the point I can gather myself to take a selfie and return to the room to change.

I get changed into some swim wear and my partner and I head for the infinity pool on the roof where we soak and look over the countryside. There is time for coffee and cake before a final sit by the pool and time spent reading. The evening is spent having dinner and once I’ve retreated to the room I start to do more death admin in trying to take the arrangements for my sisters funeral forward. I end up creating a Powerpoint presentation in order to get the material into some sort of sensible order. By the time this is done its time to draft the blog. Its going to be an early to sleep night, with the usual night meds taken. I am tired and need to get to the funeral and then focus on getting ready for my assessment for radiotherapy. The remaining delay of nine weeks before that assessment takes place is beginning to rankle with me. It feels like I am being made to mark time while I know my PSA level is rising. It feels like fiddling while Rome burns, certainly a lack of urgency. I cannot help but feel there is a sense of doing me a favour and that I should be grateful that I’m even being considered, so any delay should be tolerable. It seems to me the medical profession is content to tell itself that its saving a life, while I am concerned to live a life.

Its Monday and it Ragdale Hall day. So there is a quick coffee in bed then up for breakfast and some last minute admin. I find myself in the utility room filling the laundry basket when I catch a movement out of the corner of my eye. I see it again and then I see that there is a field mouse darting about under the bird feeder gathering up seeds. It grabs a morsel and then dashes back to the hedgerow until it is ready to come out again. I am delighted, it makes my day to see the little mouse scampering about in the garden. This is a good start to the day. I walk over to the Post Office and send the documents that I worked on yesterday. On my return I find more death emails that need responding to so I set about tidying up the loose ends that I can. I get the car loaded, feed the hedge hog and have a ham roll before setting off.

Ragdale Hall is a Spa of he highest quality and luxury. It is an expensive treat but both I and my partner need a break from what seems an endless stream of issues to be dealt with. We are going to spend two nights at the Spa to try and unwind. We are greeted and our bags tagged to be taken to our room while we are given drinks and provided with the welcome pack we need. We go to our room and unpack, then slip into the fluffy towelling robes and head for the Spa area where we swim, steam, and meditate. A hot chocolate follows before another swim, which tells me how unfit I am.

The evening is filled with dinner served to us by young men who, to a man, have Peaky Blinders haircuts. My plait is out of place. A quick coffee in one of the lounges and we retreat to the room to read and for me to write the blog. It is a good start to my new campaign to get fit and lose weight before my first appointment with the radiotherapist oncologist in May. I have 9 weeks to get therapy fit. This is serious stuff, I must moisturise.

Mothering Sunday and I surface to find that I have already been made a coffee. I drink it gratefully and then make myself and my partner a second drink. We chat for a while and eventually we get up. My partner makes the family breakfast while I start to do some more death admin. Breakfast finishes and I show my daughters the letter I have written to the solicitor. My daughters give their mother cards and presents. We then spend time going through some of the things that I brought back from my sisters house. It is a strange and difficult experience for us all so it takes quiet a long time. Eventually we are all clear about what is going to happen to the things we have looked at and then its time for my youngest daughter to go home with her partner. We wave them off and then there are chores to do.

My afternoon is spent printing off the letter to the solicitor and signing documents. I send the funeral director the details of the flower order so they know what to expect and when. With the paper work done its time to do the mundane like feed the hedgehog and fill the bird feeders. Its time to sort out my laundry and pack for going away for a couple of days. I draft the blog as cup football acts as TV wall paper while I do it.

I weighed myself this morning, a very dispiriting thing to do. I weighed in at 89.9 kilos, that is porker weight, fat, unhealthy and distressingly an indication of my lack of self care. I understand how such feedback can trigger a self perpetuating spiral and I am determined to overcome it. I know I need a routine to keep my efforts going as routine enables me to balance my energy. Its very simple I either train, rest and eat consistently or I don’t get better. I have to get into shape before radiotherapy, there are no other options so the the two day trip to the spa starting tomorrow has to be the start of the new regime. I haven’t got time for trivia, or distractions or anything other than what preserves me. So I don’t expect to be easy to live with for a while. I have enough trouble at the moment drumming up the motivation I need so I’m expecting the immediate future to be a bit of a bastard. On that cheery note I end todays blog to attend to an evening of packing and organising.