I wake to kitchen sounds as a traveling turkey crown is popped into the oven. Its Christmas! I get up, sad to leave the warmth of my bed. It might be Christmas but its a Sunday and that means its a weigh in day for me. I get into the bathroom and gingerly step onto the scales. There is a tense moment before I look down. I look down and find myself inwardly yipping! 95.9 Kilos, that’s a loss of a kilo this week. I am well chuffed and surprised. So those sessions which I struggled to do where worth it.

I grab some toast and a coffee, while the oven gets a progression of trays of Christmas goodies like pigs in blankets, stuffing balls and potatoes. I have the luxury of a Christmas shower and change into my festive clothes. Next comes the packing of the Christmas dinner into he boot of the car. Its all successfully tucked away and then I with my partner and both daughters drive over to my partners mother. We arrive and are greeted by my partners mother, at a sprightly 94, and her carer. Everything gets unloaded very quickly and the table laid. Pretty soon we are all around a Christmas table and tucking into a traditional turkey dinner. The wine flows, the conversation also flows and before we know it we are setting light to a spiced rum soaked Christmas pudding. Crackers are pulled and we find ourselves playing the game that was inside them. Apparently my daughters know each other pretty well and surprisingly I and my partner seem to have each other reasonably well sussed. There is present opening and coffee before we all quieten down to watch the KIng’s broadcast. With the that over we continue with presents and then as the night draws in we pack the car for the return trip.

Once home we are into Christmas Strictly, after eights and turkey sandwiches. We are sofa’d for the evening until we feel that its time to put out brandy and carrots to tempt Santa to swing by our house on his return to where ever he goes home to. Tomorrow if Santa swings by we will have our Christmas day with all the trimmings and presents. Although because I am not perfect I will need to get up early and dash to the co-op to see if I can pick up a Christmas pudding as we turn out to be one short.

All through the day messages come in wishing me happy Christmas and there are messages of thanks for cards and presents. Its very warming to know that all my friends are having warm and good Christmases.

Saturday, Christmas Eve! I’m awake relatively early and tucking into my festive muesli in no time at all. My partner goes off to have her hair done leaving me a shopping list of stuff to get. All the original Giffin goods like bread, milk and potatoes. My youngest and I head off to the village co-op and gather up the required goodies. Back home I clear the kitchen and run Daisy dishwasher again to clear the decks, empty the bins and recycle the remaining cardboard boxes. Part way through the morning my youngest and I indulge in late morning sandwiches and a drink.

My partner returns with a fresh hair cut and she and my youngest settle down to watch something on TV. I wrap my last two Christmas parcels and as the film downstairs gets going I go and train. Its the last thing I want to do but I get into my tracksuit and a Christmas ear stud and head for the garage. Its the last session of the week so I put the resistance up and go for a half hour session.

When I am done I record the session in my journal and then retreat to the bedroom to watch Leicester Tigers v Gloucester on my laptop. Tigers win. Of course I indulge in an alcohol free beer and a couple of fig rolls. I change and join the rest of the household for a tea of pizza and a table of goodies before we settle down for His Dark Materials and Celebrity Bake Off. The evening will wind on until people go to bed. For this household tomorrow is taking a Christmas meal to my partner’s mother where we will dine and play till we return in the evening to prepare for our Christmas on Boxing Day. For me tomorrow is a weigh in day, I have a less than festive feeling about how that might go.

Its Friday and perilously close to Christmas. Its time to collect the turkey and other goodies for the festive meals. I get up and do breakfast and meds before driving my partner and I to the local garden centre to collect our festive flesh. After picking up the turkey, mincemeat, sausage rolls and pork pie we move onto the vegetable stall. We are well loaded with food now to which we add a box of crackers. We are a head of schedule so we indulge in scones and hot chocolate. It is all the more pleasing to have got this done quickly as it is absolutely pissing down with rain.

We get home via the garage to fill the car. The goodies get stowed away and its warm drinks all round. There is some Christmas and life admin to be done. My partner and my youngest daughter disappear to the kitchen to bake. A little later there are fresh mince pies and jam tarts to be sampled.

I try to put of the dreaded moment that I need to train to one side but eventually I can’t put it off. I change into my kit and make for the garage. Its a 45 minute session on my lower resistance level. It goes reasonably well in a chilly garage.

I record the session and then change into TV watching clothes. The family eat tea and indulge in some more of the home baking. We then settle down to an evening of quiz programmes including the impossible Only Connect. Then its on to a thriller type thing, Enola Holmes with Millie Bobby Brown, before night meds and bed. Today seems a bit “thin” but I guess that’s what Christmas is about, a kind of non thinking indulgence and sloth fest. Friends are all busy with family, new homes and the last minute rush of Christmas preparations. For me and mine it is a gentle 24 hours before we take a Christmas dinner to my partners mother so our Christmas day will be on Boxing day.

Thursday and I wake up late feeling that I have not slept well. I get up and do breakfast whilst watching a programme about sea otters. I idle doing nothing for a while until my musings are interrupted by the postman. Just some cards and the winter Poetry Review journal. I glace through the journal but I struggle to be engaged by any of the contents. Probably my state of mind has more to do with my lack of engagement than than the poetry . I head for the Shed filling the squirrel feeder as I go. I settle into some life admin and my last minute Christmas arrangements. By 2 o’clock I am done with the Shed and get back to the lounge.

I am strangely unmotivated to do anything let alone train so I switch on the TV. What a great decision it turns out to be as I find myself watching The African Queen, one of my favourite films. It is just a delight with Humphrey Bogart at his best.

I am about to get up and do something else when I realise that the following film is Casablanca, another Bogart classic. Of course I watch it, its Christmas and I’m resting, what better way than watch a couple of brilliant master pieces. I settle back down on the sofa.

My youngest daughter arrives for Christmas having driven for longer than usual to get to us, due to heavy traffic. We chat a while and I return to the films classic ending. The start of a beautiful friendship. I check my messages and find some lovely pictures of Castle Howards Christmas festival from a friend. It looks really rich and decadent, so many bright and shiny things for the children to marvel at.

We eat tea and idle over the chocolate Brussel sprouts before watching celebrity Sewing Bee. Tomorrow starts Christmas in earnest with the early morning collection of the Turkey and other Christmas flesh. What will follow is the entertainment of me trying to get everything into the fridge. After that I need to catch up with a decent training session. Its really good to have my youngest daughter home for Christmas, its a shame her partner cannot be with us but we will put our energies into having an indulgent and restful time.

Wednesday, its about 9 o’clock and I ease myself out of bed and throw on some clothes. Breakfast next of course and morning meds. I put a load of washing in and attend to the various post that arrives. A parcel from my sister arrives safe and sound so I send her an email to let her know. Its a morning of bits and pieces. A friend has sent me a letter and a surprise present which I of course read over a cup of coffee, one of the true pleasures of life. By lunchtime I am ready for soup and feel a little more energised.

My partner goes to visit her mother and I start my afternoon jobs. Having hung my washing out I retrieve the camera from the garden adn check to see if it has captured anything worth a look. I discover that putting a baseball cap over the top of it to ward of water from the lens has backfired on me. The day time functions have worked but there is not a singe night capture. So all that I have is squirrels, wood pidgeons and next doors cat. I return the camera to the garden minus the baseball cap. Tomorrow I will check to see if the night function is working again. I change to train. Its a real pain in the arse having to change clothes so many times in a day when training, I understand why some people seem never to get out of their track suits. Of course some peoples fashion sense goes any further but I guess you just blag the fitness line. Any way I get into the garage and settle on the rower, today is going to be 30 minutes at a higher resistance level as I have Tesco delivering between 4 and o’clock. I get my ear phones in and on and start my row. It goes okay and I burn 400+ calories.

I change into my evening slob about clothes that tonight includes a Scottish ice hockey jersey and wait for Tesco to deliver. They rock up early so I have the joy of doing the unpacking and storing away. I send back the “all steak pie” that some one thought was a reasonable substitution for a pork pie but tidily store everything else. Once done I do a stock check of the reserve larder where I squirrel away some emergency supplies. Its not a doomsday bunker sort of thing more a sensible laying in of the stuff we use a lot of. Admittedly I sometimes screw up when I am ordering and include a “just in case” purchase that I know is going in the reserve larder. This is why I find we have three jars of marmalade. At least we are well sorted if Paddington visits.

My partner returns from her mothers and finds me starting to draft the blog. We will eat to tonight and watch the Sports Personality of the Year followed by Vienna Blood by the end of which I shall be knackered and need my bed. I am beginning to worry that the gift I have order from America is not going to arrive, which means I might be last minute Christmas shopping in person in real shops. That could be a real challenge. From what I can gather all my friends are experiencing pre Christmas perturbations in their plans or reaching a crescendo of preparation that is demanding high levels of spoon expenditure. I suspect that once Christmas arrives there may well be a lot of napping going on to recover.

Tuesday and I am awake early after a poor night. I check my social media and emails and get up to a coffee. I pack my gym bag and set off. This is a result of yesterday’s conversations about varying my exercise and making an effort to have a less sedentary life style. I arrive at the gym already in my gym gear and head for the gym floor and a cross trainer. I am being cautious and set the machine to do half an hour at level 11. After 35 minutes I have shed 361 calories (not as efficient as the rower) and gone 3.63 kilometers. Having worked my legs I work my way across the upper body gym machines till I can do no more. I retreat to the warm showers and have a long and free shower. In the lounge I have coffee and a bacon and egg roll as I check my phone. The friend I was going to have coffee with in the afternoon can not make it so I have the afternoon free again.

On the drive home I fill the car and check the tyres, so that’s done for Christmas now. Once home I put the recycling bin out and have another coffee. A friend messages me to say that she and one of her daughters are seeking refuge in the local library as builders continue to make their home difficult to cook in. It would seem these builders are confirming the stereotype of being shaky on project planning and deadline meeting. I unpack my kit and then retreat to the Shed filling the squirrel feeder as I go. I write a couple of brief letters and then try to write the poem that was trying to get out while I was on the cross trainer. There are moments when things come but allude being put into words straight away. I finally get the thing down and in a form that feels right. The music was loud in my head so the poem should be to. I might give it to next months Stanza meeting to talk bollox over. Halfisch means shark in German.

AS I PRESS ONE FOOT
AFTER ANOTHER 
IN THE GYM 
I SENSE THE RHYTHM
THAT TOOK ME,
MARATHONED ME
AND TOLD ME
YOU’RE ALIVE.
I REACH FOR THAT FEELING
LIKE A LOVERS ARMS AROUND ME,
I NEED SALVATION
AS I FIGHT 
TO STAY ALIVE.
I STRIDE ON
RAMMSTEIN LOUD IN MY EARS
HALFISCH
HALFISCH
HALFISCH
DRIVING ME 
PERPETUALLY MOVING
TO STAY ALIVE,
I AM AFRAID IN THIS STRUGGLE.
HALFISCH
HALFISCH
HALFISCH
IN DER TIEFE ES EINSAM
IN THE DEEP IT IS LONELY
SO DIE TRANEN SIEHT MAN NICHT
SO NO ONE CAN SEE THE TEARS.

I clear the Shed and return to the house before popping over to the post office to send my letters. I have no idea when they will arrive with the state of the post as it is at the moment. As I return an Amazon man delivers several packages, one of which is for me. I whisk away my package and immediately wrap the contents for Christmas. I am still waiting for one important present to arrive but as it is coming from America I am not holding out much hope of getting it by Christmas. It was supposed to be here by today. I settle down to write the blog as my partner finishes work for the day not feeling well. We eat early and ease ourselves into the evening which will be short as we both need to get some much needed rest.

Monday and I wake groggily. I sort my social media and emails out till my partner brings me a coffee. Feeling more charged I get up and do breakfast and morning meds before starting on the pre Christmas tidy up. There is all the recycling of packaging to do and the returning of the Christmas decoration storage boxes to the loft before the house tidying can happen. There are bins to empty and rooms to be hoovered. Along the way I put washing away and also return to the loft to store some old duvets so that our last duvet can be stored in a bedroom cupboard. All of this takes me to lunchtime when I share soup with my partner.

Post lunch I wrap more presents and redo my to do list as I am still waiting for some things to arrive. The post arrives and to my surprise I get a card from a friend without a stamp on it. No one asks for money or points it out so I just assume that the disenchanted postal workers just let it go. Apparently it was sent quite a while ago so maybe the posties were being kind. There are some quick discussions about coffee, which leads to some research and a bulk buy, followed by an impulse buy as a surprise Christmas present. Finally it feels as if things are shipshape enough for the run into the festive season.

I clear some tools and odd bits of household stuff into he garage and notice a plastic bag with the broken bits of Minnie and Micky Mouse. These trinkets were brought back from Disneyland when we visited Florida a few years ago, unfortunately they did not survive the fall they took from the dresser some months ago. So in a the same festive spirit that saw me hang up the advent calendar and put the wreath on the door, gluing some loose fir cones back in place as I did it, I decided it was time to return Minnie and Mickey to wholeness. I’ve watched the Repair Shop, so I feel well able to undertake the task of gluing Mr and Mrs Mouse back onto their feet and reattaching Mrs Mouse’s hand. I gather together the required tools and set to work, starting by taping their feet to a board. The ceramics woman in the Repair Shop would be proud of me. I glue, hold, glue again; should have been more patient, but eventually get Mr and Mrs standing again.

I set about touching the couple up and deploy my artistic skills with a bit of acrylic paint and my pallet. It seems to go reasonably well. I am impressed by the way the acrylic paint pallet has kept the paint soft over such a long period of time. It was a good investment.

The happy couple will spend a night in recovery and then, providing they are fully dry and recovered they will be rehoused on the dresser, where hopefully, they will remain safely for many years to come. So a happy end is in sight. I clear away the tools and return them to the Shed. By now my partner has finished work for the day and the evening looms. I have a coffee and start to draft the blog. The evening could be tricky, no more football, no more Strictly, no more Happy Valley (what a misnomer that was), no more Strike, so he hunt for entertainment is on. I may peruse my book shelves and see what has eluded me or we might scroll through Netflix, i-player, ITVx, Prime video or even the radio times. I’ve already had a look at Christmas on TV, no Dr Who special, that’s it then Christmas is going to rely on someone giving someone else a jigsaw of fiendish difficulty or we all go mad and play a marathon game of Monopoly. However tonight goes I will not have trained but the house is relatively tidy.

During the day a friend tried to call, (the one who forgot the stamp), which I missed but she did message me to remind me that my screen saver at work was “Under No Circumstances Buckle”. My partner has also nudged me towards considering new options in my diet (Hairy Bikers cook books are strategically left with me) and to also consider putting more variation into my training by reintroducing some weights work. This is probably a good idea as it means that I may venture the gym more often. I shall give this serious consideration and might even visit the gym tomorrow morning. The free shower in a warm club might just be the incentive I need right now.

https://youtu.be/VErKCq1IGIU

Sunday and I am glum. Despite an interesting Stanza meeting and an enjoyable meal with friends last night I am glum. I’ve just weighed in. My scales tell me I am 96.9 kilos, that is an increase of a 1 kilo this week. This is terrible. I’ve been trying so hard to eat sensibly and to exercise. My belief has always been that if I cut out the sweet stuff and some of the starch, combined with exercise I lose weight. It appears that at the moment I am wrong and need to think again. I go thorough my training/diet journal and try to identify what I can do differently. No honey on the muesli, less bread (not that there is a lot), no more non alcohol beer as I suspect it has more sugar in it than I think, no more dried fruit snacks, no more occasional crisps. On the training side I need to do more and up the intensity providing this does not make me piss blood afterwards. The real problem is, I think, that my life style is too sedentary. I am not getting out much, despite yesterdays trips and walking to the shop occasionally. Its a Catch 22, I have less energy to spend but unless I spend more I will not lose weight. It requires another act of will, it requires me to remain steadfast in my Rocket phase strategy until my next oncology review in January. This whole position is against the backdrop of my latest blood results which were equally gloom inducing. The basic sense is that there is less I can control or influence without greater effort which is increasingly difficult to muster the energy for. This is the truly insidious nature of my cancer, it never rests, never takes a day off and grinds away remorselessly. There is no winning only delay, a rear-guard action. The temptation is to say fuck it and just indulge, a capitulation, total surrender and go down drunk, drugged and defeated. I can’t do that. I promised myself that I would do this with dignity, determination and dialogue. So although I’m not sure what the immediate solutions are I will continue to look for them and think and feel my way through this. Onwards.

Today is world cup final day. I shall watch of course but I am not “gripped” by the prospect. All this before breakfast and before taking my partner a warm drink in bed. On the brighter side (literally) I have replaced batteries in the light up festive rabbit and stag that sit in our window as we get Christmassy. So starts this Sunday, just another day in the journey.

My partner and I breakfast and then head for the garden centre to buy vegetables and meat. We also pick up some extra Christmas fripperies before heading home to yet more coffee and a mince pie. We face time our youngest daughter and catch up with arrangements. Its then time to settle down to watch the world cup final.

Well what a final. The best I’ve seen in all my years. I think the best team won. The French almost did not turn up at all and only got into it at the end. Like many others I am pleased that Messi finally got to win the world cup and step out of the shadow of Maradona. It was a breath taking game and kept me absorbed the entire time.

There is just time to eat tea before I move onto the first episode of His Dark Materials. I discover that all the episodes are on i-player, which means that at some point I might binge it. Tonight I confine myself to the first episode only as my partner and I need to catch up with the final of Strictly, which we missed last night due to being out with friends All day we have avoided knowing the result. We watch and are collectively pleased with the outcome.

Tomorrow is the day to pack away the Christmas decoration storage boxes back in the loft and to get the house straight for Christmas. The tricky bit is getting myself up to Rocket standard and to start the grind again. Its back to going forward and seeing what happens. Then of course there are the last minute Christmas cards and letters. For now I fill my drugs wallets, take my night meds and go to bed believing that I can Rocket again tomorrow.

Saturday. Blood results are in. Came in at midnight Friday night. One look and it says everything, PSA still rising and now my Creatine and Urea levels are rising as my eGFR is falling. Kidney shit basically. Functional but not going in right direction. So Saturday starts with printing off my results, colouring them in, contemplating them and digesting them.

Nothing to be done except drink more water and move on. I draft the blog with the results, make warm drinks and return to bed to share the results with my partner. Then it will be time for breakfast, dress the Christmas tree, go to the poetry Stanza this afternoon and dine with friends in the evening. I’m not feeling that jolly but fuck it what are the options? I can’t drink or fuck so my basics have gone so it will all have to be everything else, and there is a lot of that. These are my first thoughts, I’ve not had time to think about my second and third thoughts yet, they will come in time, until then; onwards.

Friday and I am awake at 7 o’clock. There is warm coffee and thoughts of going for my bloods to be taken. I check my social media and find others are awake and planning their days. One brave person is going to a Ukulele concert. My Pixies shudder at the thought and move on.

Too early in the morning for me and my pixies, how long did you last, now imagine this being played by small children. My friend is very brave, but when its your child up there doing it, it is something different. Ah the happy memories of all those school nativity plays and concerts. My own daughters were of course spectacularly brilliant. Anyway I am slow to rise but eventually I find myself dressed, huddled up in warm outdoors wear and walking to the GP surgery.

I enter the surgery with mask on and sign in, taking a seat in the waiting area. My name gets called and I look up to see the receptionist hailing me. I follow him in to the clinic room to find he is going to take my bloods. It turns out he has many skills and it quick and efficient with taking my bloods. Is today a nurses strike day, no it is not, so the receptionist has clearly moved on to pastures bloodier. I return home to a coffee and a laptop that seems to have become agedly slow. So as I try to download more Stanza poems I am simultaneously try to get it to run faster. I give in, run some clean up software and move to my other laptop to start the blog for the day. At 11 0’clock I decide its time for breakfast.

Fried egg sandwich sees me right, washed down with coffee. I set about defrosting the cars as my partner is off to the physiotherapist this afternoon. I download some more poems and prepare for tomorrow. When my partner returns my eldest daughter and I drive off to the garden centre to get a Christmas tree. It does not take long to select a tree as they are all labelled with their height and price. Actually we don’t bother with the measurement thing I stand by them and we find one that is slightly taller than me to accommodate Red Sonia our traditional red fairy. The attendant nets the tree and we push off to the tills to pay. Having put the seats down in the car the netted tree goes in easily. Back home we store the tree in the porch while I get on with the preparations to receive it. Even after a short while the smell of fir tree begins to permeate the house.

I get to work on the annual Christmas tree light swearing bout. The light box comes out of the loft and I start to unravel the rolls of lights. Its the snowflake ones that are the pain in the arse as they catch on everything in sight. Thankfully all the strings work so now its down to getting the tree screwed into to the base, moving the TV to its Christmas position and getting the room set. This gets done and I start to weave the lights into the tree. Its very hit and miss and as always the effect at the end is random. Once the lights are on I hang my youngest daughters tree decorations that she bought for us as a present recently.

It coincides with dinner. Having eaten I settle down to draft the blog. I am perturbed by the fact that DAY 45 seems to have gone astray although the platform says it has been published. I am hoping that todays blog becomes available or moves things forward. This evening I shall be watching TV, gods knows what, probably Happy Valley, which it isn’t. Whether I stay up to see if my blood results come will depend on how many spoons I can muster. There are more poems to run off in preparation for tomorrow’s poetry Stanza and I need to get some suitable finger foods to take.