Wednesday and it feels as if this is the start of my year as the Christmas decorations have gone and the other household members have gone back to work. So they are awake and closeted in their work spaces around the house and I can hear the conversations as the screens show meetings going on and documents being worked on. I have breakfast and coffee followed by my morning meds. I order my monthly meds after checking my calendar. After a bit of clearing up I go off to the Shed to write letters.

By lunchtime I’ve completed a single letter, which reflects my sluggishness and the effects of the cold that I am finding it difficult to shake off. Chicken soup is the obvious choice when I have a cold, so I settle down to a warm dish and the lunch time news. I continue my letter writing through the afternoon interspersed with playing Tim Minchin songs. Eventually I have to pause my writing to welcome the Tesco deliver and get it squirreled away. As I am putting things away I notice that there are two squirrels in the garden. I watch them and do not move until I have seen both of them lift the lid on the squirrel feeder and successful access the food. I return to the letter writing but whilst checking my social media I noticed a post from a colleague from the Therapeutic Community community. He had reposted a very powerful performance from someone I had not heard of. It certainly gripped my attention and hopefully I can find it to add to the end of the blog so that you can see what you think of it. I continue to write letters until my partner returns from visiting her mother. Just before 5 o’clock I leg it to the post box outside the chippy and post office and breathe a sigh of relief when I find that it had not yet been emptied. Later I am to return to the chippy with my partner to collect our fish adn chip tea.

My evening starts with the drafting of the blog against the background of news, which includes exploding candles. At last my bank has caught up with my standing orders and my monthly movements of money have finally arrived where they should, which is a relief. Although I had forgotten that I had booked a holiday in June/July and also forgotten when it needs to be paid for. I finally find the right app on my phone and find I can stay cool until the end of April. So I set out into the evening with the intention of ending up at the football highlights before doing my meds and getting to bed. I have promised myself to try and get up early tomorrow morning as I feel I am slipping into the habit of not getting up before 9 o’clock. I’m constantly aware that I am not “Rocketing” as I wanted to and my oncology review is edging nearer. Its the feeling of not being in control or at least not doing what I can do to make it as good as it can be. A friend reminded me that my screen saver at work was “Under no circumstances buckle”, I do not think or intend to buckle but I feel I might have bent a bit. Still its the heat of the forge that straightens the steel.

Tuesday, the day Christmas dies. I wake up to the sounds of a household working from home and know that its loft and recycle time. First is the triple fried egg sandwich and coffee to fortify me for the coming hours of stripping, untangling, wrapping and storage box juggling. Not to mention the perilous ascensions to the loft loaded with awkward slippery plastic storage boxes. It went just as I thought it would, prolonged wrestling festive baubles and tinsel into designated boxes. As usual the four sets of tree lights were a pain in the arse to disentangle and wrestle into their respective boxes. It seems this year we used a lot of tinsel. Eventually I am down to the bare tree. I chop it up and get it into the recycling bin, which is fortuitous as the recycling collection is tomorrow. The bins go out and then I am in to sweeping and clearing up. Its gone 4 o’clock before I am finally finished. The House is now as it was before the seasonal decorations. I realise that my triple fried egg sandwich was a long time ago so make a coffee and indulge in some panettone. I stare into space for a while and then seek entertainment. I find a Tim Minchin concert to watch and just sat in awe of his talent and laughed a lot. I would definitely pay money to see him live. Tea time comes around and I start to draft the blog. The evening beckons, no idea what I’ll watch, read, write or do as I am already out of spoons with the effort of clearing away Christmas. The stuff is all there for next year, I just need to be.

Its Monday the 2nd of January, another Bank Holiday. I’m awake and drinking coffee in bed at 9 o’clock. Being also talented and able to multitask I book a Tesco slot and do the shopping for the coming week before checking my social media. Its a bacon sandwich for breakfast with the family around the table and conversation. It was during this that I learn, or was reminded by my family that my sister is going into hospital today for two or three days for some ongoing tests and treatment for the heart condition that put her in hospital in the autumn. It reminds me that today is the anniversary of my mothers death some 14 years ago. I’m not sure why that came to mind so readily but it did. At the moment family and family history seems to be important. It leaves me feeling reflective about my own future. I sense this maybe in part the consequences of trying to overcome this damn cold that has left me feeling turgidly listless.

Post breakfast, which is really almost lunch, I drive my partner and I to the gym. I’m not in a fit condition to train but I need to get to of the house and drink different coffee. While my partner goes off to exercise I settle down with a large black americano and the laptop to start the blog. I note that very few people have viewed the blog over the last couple of days and put it down to post Christmas and New Year malaise. People out there in the Real World have lives that are full and busy and mine, I realise, has become somewhat restricted. Having struggled for energy recently it has meant that I’ve done less than I might have intended, either that or I am just becoming idle, although it appears that no one told my brain. Bizarrely I went to sleep last night thinking about the difference between Faith and Belief. No idea why, but I obviously did not find it intriguing enough to stay awake. I am though still thinking about my friends suggestion to change the name of the blog. Having drafted what I can of the blog I write a reply to a friends letter that arrived recently.

I drive my partner and myself home after another coffee together and as soon as we get home we are off out to the village shop to get vegetables for tonight’s meal. Already it is getting dark and it feels as if the day has already gone as the temperature drops. I walk over to the post box and send the letter I wrote at the gym, then I am back on the sofa reading Moomin and the Golden Leaf and Moomin, The Complete Tove Jansson Comic Strip. A friend once alerted me to the criticism that has been made about the later Moomin stories written by other people but keeping the art work of Tove Jansson. The Golden Leaf is an example of a non Tove Jansson authored story and I have to say I found it lacking in the depth and subtlety that the originals have. I immediately read the first story in the Complete Comic Strip after the Golden Leaf and found that there really is a difference in the quality of thought that has gone into the story. As I write this I realise that I am in danger of writing a really obsessive analysis of this in a similar vein as is to be found in American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis, where he writes intricate details of such things as the difference between Armani and Armani Emporium goods or the quality of business cards. I shall leave Moomin literary criticism to those whose field it is.

I return to drafting the blog and move onto the evening meal after which I try to contain my excitement that the Mighty Brentford are two nil up against Liverpool at half time. I’m cold and vaguely distracted this evening. There are probably a number of contributing factors but like all things it will only become clear, if it does, over time. I am aware that tomorrow is the day I shall put all the Christmas decorations away in the loft and recycle the actual Christmas tree. If I manage that I aim to gently train for the first time this year. The Mighty Brentford actually beat Liverpool 3-1 to send me to bed a happy person. Clearly I am easily pleased.

Sunday, Happy New Year! As its a Sunday my first act is to weigh myself to see what damage having a cold, not training and festive feasting has done to my weight. I get on the scales and they show me I am 97.2 Kilos an addition of 1.3 kilos. I am of course sad to have put on weight but it is not as bad as it could have been. With that out of the way I make warm drinks for myself and my partner and return to bed to have new year chat and to reflect on the future. I don’t get out of bed until 11 o’clock at least. Sometimes the luxury of rest is the best there is. I get up and start my 2023 with a sturdy bacon sandwich and more coffee. I reload my drugs wallets for the next two weeks and check my pre Christmas to do list. I am gratified to find that it is complete apart from the arrival of one present that is somewhere still in transit. My new 2023 list is going to be short, very short. Its time to shaky a leg and get out of the house for a while.

I drive my partner and I to the local park where we take a turn around the woods and duck pond. Its good to get out and to begin to move again. There is something that is just primal about being outside and noticing things like the higher water levels in the brooks and streams. After our walk I drive us back and I watch a rugby match on TV whilst nibbling fruit. I have a feeling that I shall do much fruit nibbling in this year.

My afternoon drifts into evening and I find myself doing the last of post Christmas admin. This includes a brief peruse of the Moomin books and comics I got for Christmas. There is something very appealing about the stories. A friend of mine who is a philosopher has been known to quote the Moomins as examples of philosophic argument from time to time. As I say they are more than just nice children’s stories. I’m looking forward to some reading time over the next few days.

The evening slips into His Dark Materials to be followed by Happy Valley. Tomorrow the plan is to go to the gym. I have to start over again post cold and now is the as good a time as any to start. After that there is a poem word count to be done and the steps to publishing to be taken.

Saturday and the last day of the year. It starts with a lazy coffee in bed and the usual Saturday catch up. My partner and I finally get up and have breakfast before going shopping for the evenings Tagine. Once back from the shops we indulge in coffee and pastries. The post has arrived and I have a letter from a friend to read, so more coffee and a quiet moment to read it. Its such a pleasure to get a letter, I hope that receiving mine are met with the same levels of happiness. The writer of the letter suggests I might consider renaming the blog as I might consider that I am more than my cancer. Its a fair point and I intend to give myself some thinking time to consider the issues in this. Having had the letter joy I turn to preparing the Tagine. I find it relaxing to prepare food and especially new dishes. This one includes apricots and olives with a collection of spices so I am hopeful that my palate is going to be excited. Having cleared away the kitchen and set the meal on its way I turn my attention to the herb and spice shelves that are in a random state. I clean, and reorder the shelves, removing duplicates and jettisoning out of date goods. Once satisfied with this I read the gas and electricity meters and submit my readings. God knows what December is going to cost us but I cannot abide the cold, its bad enough facing days where 2 o’clock feels more like 5 o’clock. Its already dark, overcast and raining hard.

I take a break to watch a rugby match and to start drafting the blog before I buckle down to do my tax return, which is in danger of being late. Various friends have sent messages hoping that the coming year is a good one and that to some extent 2022 has been one that many of us have had to survive. I would echo this, it would be good if we all could experience a sense of positive progress over the coming year. For my part I am going to endeavour to be a little calmer and quietly pursue a routine that sees me doing the important things I want to do.

Tax return done I settle down to the Tagine (too acid needed honey in it), and The Last Leg, football and Hootenanny and the drift into the New Year of 2023. Good luck to all of us, see you as soon as possible.

Friday and its scan day. I get up after a coffee and shower. Again its the pre hospital ritual of being clean and smelling nice. It also means thinking about what to wear as its a scan, so no zips, no belts, no jewellery and no jumpers. It also means having clothes with enough pockets to juggle all the bits and pieces that the trip will require. Given the weather coupled with the no jumper rule I plump for a vest and T shirt so that I can wear my new multi pocketed knuckle cord jacket. So having got the hospital kit on I check that I have everything I need. I say good bye to my youngest daughter who is returning home today. Farewells said I then get myself on the road to the hospital.

I arrive early and find a parking place with no problem at all, which is unexpected. What was also unexpected was a stranger offering me her parking ticket that still had tome left on it, but unfortunately not long enough for me to use, so I politely decline. I get my parking ticket and then enter the hospital with my mask on. I wonder towards radiology and find myself thinking that there are not many people around. I find radiology and get directions to waiting area B. There are two other couples and a singleton in the little bay and I think I am in for a long wait. I get out Betrayed By Rita Heyworth and start to read. To my surprise the people around me disappear, reappear and bugger off in very quick time. I’ve only got through a couple of pages before the radiographer calls me in. Nice guy, so I give him my pre completed risk form to save him flogging through same form. He explains the injection of a contrast liquid into me and asks me if I have a favoured arm. Left, its always the left, I have a very accommodating vein in the left arm and sure enough he whips in the catheter first go. I lay down on the scanner and the radiographer arranged my limbs and leaves the room. Fairly soon a mechanical voice is asking me to take a breath and hold it. After a couple of the breath holding interludes I feel the contrast fluid being pumped into my arm and right on cue I experience the flushing sensation through my limbs and the rather disconcerting sensation of wanting to pee and poo at the same time. It is one of those moments that you hope everything holds together, but of course it does and all goes well. The radiographer returns and ushers me in to a small waiting area and then goes to check the magic machine has worked, so I am left to contemplate the catheter in my arm adn of course cannot resist a quick selfie.

The radiographer returns (a good book title), and takes my catheter out and askes if I am okay. Of course I am. I leave the building and fancy a bacon roll adn a coffee so I drop into the hospital restaurant. Coffee machine not working and not a sniff of bacon anywhere. I leave unfulfilled and return to the car to drive home. I get home to find there is much cleaning and organising going on, which precludes coffee and a bacon bagel. I got out again to the shop for a paper and drop into the village café to have a coffee and a bacon and sausage baguette. Refreshed I return home.

Once home I head for the Shed where I reorganise and integrate many Christmas goodies. I settle down and write letters, probably the last of this year. By the time I finish writing it is dark so I pack up the Shed and go indoors. I take a quick trip to the post box and then settle down to watch some TV. Before long its time for tea and the easing into the evening. My household has been busy completing yet another Christmas jigsaw. The success is marred by a missing piece.

As luck would have it the wayward piece gets found later under the jigsaw board. As TV wallpapers the background I start to draft the blog and think about what I am going to do tomorrow with the last day of this year. I am frustrated that I cannot train and have not trained this week and part of me wants to train tomorrow just to get my body going. If I wake up feeling half human tomorrow I might give it a try.

Thursday and I am awake with coffee by 9 o’clock feeling a little more human than I did yesterday. I get up and get back to having a sensible gut assisting helping of muesli and yoghurt. I’m feeling so much better that I accompany my partner to the post office and the village shop to get some odds and ends of food for tonight’s tea. I’m surprised I am this chipper but maybe over doing it with out realising. Buoyed by my experience I contemplate going out again later but first there is Jumanji to watch. Only after I watched this gamitytosh do I take the car to fill it and check the tyres. Back home I have chicken soup, the traditional “make you better” cure all and begin to draft the blog. I find someone has left a comment which I of course reply to. I can feel my spoon store rapidly decreasing. A friend messaged me earlier in the day and shared that she had managed to walk a mile without needing to rest, which is a big thing for someone battling long COVID, so I take heart that I too will recover in time from my cold.

As I meander through the rest of the day my family are busy doing Christmas jigsaws. This year has been particularly rich in new puzzles. Personally I gave up jigsaws last year when I experienced the revelation that life is too short for jigsaws. However here is the fruits of my families endeavours.

I cruise through the rest of the afternoon by preparing my paper work for tomorrows scan. This is the fifth one I have done so it should go smoothly, getting a parking space is likely to be the trickiest part of the adventure. What I have to remember is that the car park does not take card payments, so I have to make sure I am weighed down with coins. Its the only hospital in the area that has yet to catch up with technology. I cannot help thinking that this lack of techno ability reflects why its CQC rating of “requires improvement” is accurate. Tea time comes around and we are soon all back in the warmth of the lounge doing cyber puzzles, TV quizzes and in my case drafting the blog. There will be a film, warm drinks and an early night for me. I am right, my spoons have run out.

Wednesday, because I can hear the bins being emptied. I had a grim nights disturbed sleep with a throat clamped steel trap shut and raw. My first act of the day was to seek Lemsip and then retreat back to bed. Its a sort of self imposed quarantine as I do not want to pass this on to anyone else in the family. So here I am in bed with the cyber world and books. I am desperate to get better as I have a scan on Friday and they will not do it if I am too obviously unwell. So for the moment Strepsils are my friend and books my food. Fortunately Christmas was kind to me in book terms so I have Manuel Puig’s Betrayed by Rita Heyworth to read, although my concentration span is shot at the moment. When I find I can read no more Puig I return to Big Panda and Tiny Dragon to feed me small but very wholesome brain food. It is in these times that the Dark and Tricky rises inside me and I begin to doubt all sorts of things about myself, others and the world, fortunately at this moment in time Big Panda comes to the rescue.

So here I stay becalmed by a crap cold, at least it will give me an opportunity to do the word count for the 350 poems I have to prepare for publication. That’s my first step. The day goes, I tire, take my meds and go to bed. I’m cold inside and out.

Tuesday and I wake up feeling totally crap, my acquired cold has caught hold with a vengeance. I make a coffee and retreat to bed with paracetamol and books. I start to read James Norbury’s Big Panda and Tiny Dragon. I am hooked straight away and read it all the way through and then I read it again. It is a Buddhist inspired book and touches all my nerves in the right way. It seems that every picture has a meaning for me at the moment. One in particular sets me off and makes me think that I have forgotten why I started the blog and why I finally retired in June.

My first thought was whether I had lost sight of why I write this blog. Originally it was for family and friends to let people know how I am. The thought was that people find it difficult to ask about cancer and what it is doing to me. My experience is that after the first crisis phase of knowing that I had cancer life could be very prosaic, boring even. I think my blog reflects this as it moved through the various phases. I looked back at the blog from the start and reminded myself of how long its been going on and what I have asked people to persevere with over this time. It seems to me that there is much of the mundanity of life and bursts of cancer related stuff. Of course the cancer stuff is always there and that’s the theme that remains unsaid most of the time.

• Welcome all. 01-09-2019 1 day
• Induction day. 02-09-2019 1 day
• Chemo Days 04 -09-2019 to 05-01-2020 124 days
• Fingers Crossed Phase 07-01- 2020 to 23-03-2020 77 days
• As Good As It Gets Phase 24-03-2020 to 08-02-2021 322 days
• As Good As It Gets Phase II 10-02-2021 to 21-12-2021 315 days
• Antiandrogen 22-12-2021 to 22-02-2022 63 days
• As Good As It Gets Again 23-02-2022 to 31-10-2022 251 days
• ROCKET 01-11-2022 to Present 57 days
• TOTAL SO FAR 1211 DAYS

It would seem there are a lot of days since that first all text page on the 1st of September over three years ago. Over the years to date people have occasionally told me that they have read the blog and found it useful and said nice things about how it helps from time to time or just keeps them up to date with my situation. I guess the blog is continuing to do what it was intended for and as time has gone on I have found that it helps me to be clear about what is important to me and makes me own some of the more tricky stuff that comes with the cancer territory.

The same picture in the book made me think about my poetry. I had intended to self publish my poetry but instead I entered competitions and sent some poems for consideration for publishing by various poetry journals. All that has happened is that I have joined a poetry Stanza and endured rejection and silence. I have had nothing accepted or published. The logic in the cognitive arithmetic could be argued to indicate my poetry is shit. It might of course be so but that’s not what I feel. So remembering why I started is helpful. I have already looked again at self publishing houses and rekindled my energy to find a way to publish. My first job is to word count all the poems that I want publish, that will give me a cost parameter. So over the coming days I shall begin the process with a view to publishing in the next six months.

I finally get up and set about clearing up the piles of wrappings and recyclable boxes. With that done I put out the bin for emptying tomorrow. I make hot soup and then settle down to write the blog as I watch Karate Kid and a rugby match. I dose up with more paracetamol. Its going to be a short evening as I shall go to bed early but not before sorting out tomorrows Tesco delivery.

It’s Monday, my families Christmas day. We start with warm drinks all in or on the same bed just chilling, chatting and seeing how we are. Breakfast is marmalade bagels and more warm drinks. Once we are comfortable we settle down in the lounge and open our presents. It takes a while as we have the odd challenge of trying to remember what package is for who when the label has fallen off. We rip and tear and occasionally peel carefully back layers of wrapping to reveal our presents. I have to say my family have spoilt me this year. These coming months see me well provided with all the materials I need to continue writing letters, dress in style, and be warm and colourful. I will also be able to monitor my fitness again on a daily basis as I continue with my Rocket days. My friends also know me well and I get two T shirts that reflect this.

When the present opening ends some of the family go to the shops in the village to get a Christmas pudding. While they are gone I sort my new things out. I have lots of new reading including James Newbury’s Big Panda and Tiny Dragon, Manuel Puig’s Betrayed By Rita Hayworthand and a Moomin book, The Golden leaf. So I expect that over the next few days some of the new reading will appear in the blog. The main event of the day, Christmas dinner is eaten at 3 o’clock in the afternoon at a leisurely pace. It is always a huge meal and no one can face pudding until we have had a few games of Perrudo, a dice game. Once we feel able, we cook the Christmas pudding, deck it with holly, dowse it with brandy and set it alight in true traditional style.

Having filled ourselves with festive food the family head to the lounge to doze through a film and then drift through an evening of TV and grazing. Gradually family members drift off to bed and I draft the blog as the last Match of the Day highlights play out. Its been a lovely day of family feasting and enjoying each other. Tomorrow there will be time to read some of the new books, start the jigsaws and try out my new glass pen. For now its time to take my night meds, something for my developing cold and go to bed. All in all I am a very lucky person.