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.

Saturday, a brief lay in and then coffee before getting up for breakfast. By 11 o’clock I Am driving my partner and my youngest daughter adn her partner to Stoughton Howard Estate. Its raining when we get there so we pop in the automata work shop. Its full of delights and on feeding a couple of the displays we watch them spring to life.

We have lunch and then visit the art shops before walking down to the reservoir and watch the swans. Having soaked up the views we visit the garden centre and where we have warm drinks. The rai falls heavily adn the skies are very dark so we decide to return home.

Back home I watch some international rugby and open the days post. There is the report from the oncologist from my last review in which he says that my appointment with a new oncologist for radiotherapy, The wording is disturbing in that it suggests that I ‘m not being offered radio therapy only being assessed and on the basis of yet another scan to be done in April and another set of bloods. So I am in more of a hinterland than I thought. There is nothing I can do other than stay with my plan A, moisturise, train and diet. I move onto the solicitor’s letter regarding my sisters estate. There are questions that I need to discuss with my daughters and a letter to sign. There are other documents included, some of which are intriguing. The rugby end and dinner is ready.

After dinner I sit with my two daughters and we order flowers for my sisters funeral. We then discuss the solicitors letter and what we want to do. We cover a lot of issues and when we have finished I spend the rest of my evening drafting a letter to the solicitor. I run off copies for my daughters to see in the morning. Then I set about drafting the blog. I’m tired and send my end of day birthday message to a friend, take my meds and go to bed. Tomorrow there is more death admin to do adn instructions to be sent to the funeral directors.

Friday, I’m awake by 7:30 and brought coffee at 7:45. Bliss I can read for an hour adn a half before I get up. I continue with The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August. It is a compelling book and asks some interesting questions about repeated lives and what that might mean if the memories of each life are retained into the next life. I read until 9am and get up for my muesli breakfast and morning meds. I se the end of a 24 hour dance marathon in aid of Comic Relief and then tidy the kitchen. My partner returns from a physio session and after a while she goes out with my youngest daughter to the hair dressers and to go shopping for make up. With them gone I check my sisters redirected post. Nothing but advertising, so I write “return to sender, addressee deceased” on it and put it to one side to post later.

I decide to train and go and change into my gear. I set up my headphones and head for the garage where I strap into the rower and set off for an hours row. Its an okay session, burning off 800+ calories. It feels a tough session but the figures say it was okay.

While about to change out of my training gear I notice the garden guy has pulled up in his car so I abort my changing and go to see him with coffee and money. We talk about traveller funerals and the fact that we both like cash not plastic. I leave him to tidy things and cut clean edges to the front path. Once free I go for a shower. I notice when I am blow drying my hair that it is indeed getting quite long. It seems to me that newly washed and dried hair always seems longer, I’ve no idea why that should be. Before dressing I grab a dollop of E45 and give what I imagine is going to be the irradiated areas of my body a good moisturising. This is part of my pre-emptive self care before radiotherapy. All I need to do now is stop eating sweet stuff and train harder. So many “shoulds” and “oughts” that if only I did I would feel I was doing the best possible. As it is they serve as markers of failure or how far I fall short. Once dressed my partner and daughter return and I and my partner go food shopping at our local garden centre. Its basic stuff but I think we are going to do a rough approximation of a Christmas dinner. The only thing we cannot get is frozen peas so on my return home I and my eldest daughter walk to the shop to get some . There are times when making the effort is rewarded in unexpected ways. Today I was rewarded for my effort with a lovely rainbow.

Back home and feeling accomplished I download pictures and start to write the blog while nibbling away at a bag of mini eggs. I can feel my energy levels dropping rapidly and know that I am about to be overcome with fatigue even before the evening meal. I shall no doubt eat and retire to read until its time to take my night meds and have another go at getting a reasonable nights sleep. It is clear I’ve very few, if any spoons left.

Thursday and its my youngest daughters birthday and she and her partner are arriving to today. I get up and have breakfast and begin to plan the day. A friend calls and we talk for a long time catching up with how we are and how our respective families are doing. Its very valuable to me to be able to have these conversations, I always come away from them clearer about how I and others are. It is these conversations that crystallise some of the more nebulas issues that are floating around inside me. We end our conversation just as my youngest daughter and partner arrive outside.

We have lunch together and I see the first scan pictures of my new grandchild to be. My partner takes my two daughters to see their grandmother. I chat to my daughters partner for a while and then he has to go to a meeting as he is technically “working form home”. He is in our office adn will work from there tomorrow as well. I go the Shed and write a brief birthday note to a friend and replenish the hedgehog canteen. The Shed gets closed up and I post my letter before settling down to sort through the post, which now contains redirected mail from my sisters address to me. There are some documents in her mail that I copy and send to the solicitor just to make sure she is aware of the situation. Then its an early football match on the laptop.

The family gathers for dinner and we celebrate my youngest daughters birthday with chocolate cake, the opening of cards and presents and general birthday merriment. I watch some more football as I am tired and finally I draft the blog. I take my night meds and go to bed. Today has been a real mixture of emotions and it leaves me drained, I crave routine in which to do the basic self maintenance in but at the same time crave respite and idleness.

Wednesday and I wake quite early for me and read more chapters of The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August. Its about a man who lives and dies over an over into the same life but retaining the memories of each life from the moment of his birth. So each time he is born he is fully conscious as an adult of all his previous lives. Its a disturbing but intriguing read so far and I have a feeling that there is far more to come. I get up and find my eldest has camped in the lounge with her breakfast boiled eggs, which smell appalling, so I shoo her out of the lounge. I take my morning meds, clear the kitchen and put my washing in, it is then that I discover we have run out of honey. I dress and go to the village shop and then onto the village café for a full breakfast. In order to do the crosswords I borrow a pen and then sit reading, eating and fathoming the crossword. On my way back I meet my partner going to the doctors and we make a quick plan of action for the expected visitors. Once home I hang out my washing and start to do the days admin.

Its just chores then until I drop off a bag of shirts and suits to Age UK and pop into the chiropodist to change my appointment next week. By the time I get home more death admin has arrived. My new book from Amazon arrives, Newton’s The System of the World. Its a slim volume and I set about reading it. Clearly Newton was a bit on the bright side, I get lost in the maths but I now get how tides work. I go shopping and get additional goodies for tonight’s tea and tomorrows birthday celebrations. By now I am tired and its a drift into the evening as I find out my youngest daughter is not coming today but is going to arrive tomorrow. An evening of pizza, TV football and drafting the blog. It feels like I am doing everything except train. This feels like survival but I shall make sure I moisturise before I go to sleep tonight, its part of my radiotherapy preparation. Life is becoming more weird.