Jab Monday rocks around again and I am slow to get up, preferring to do my vitals, which are all good, and then I get up in time for a fried egg sandwich and my morning meds. There is a nip in the air and so for the first time this year I don a new cotton vest. Now fully layered up I stroll down to the GP surgery and wait for my nurse to call me in. It is my usual nurse who asks how I am and knows that this month the injection is going into my right side, the trickier side. I am soon done and walk down to the co-op to get a paper and some cash. On the way there is a hearty “Fuck off” from an angry male voice behind me, I do not turn round knowing the “Fuck off” was not for me I walk on and let the world get on with itself, I’m really not that inquisitive any more.

Home safely with my cash and newspaper I take the recommended prophylactic paracetamol and set about the days crosswords, three in all, which I manage without the aid of Google, even though one word was really strange. With the crosswords done I order padded envelopes big enough to take a copy of The Cancers Years Anthology : Man to Man. My plan is to send review copies out to the media and with that in mind I set about compiling a list of addresses of TV, radio and press outlets. Not such an easy task but I end up with a list of about 10 potential recipients of review copies. I’m not sure why I am going to do this, I think I just want to get the work out there and see what happens, if anything. My previous experience is that my work has met with very little interest, so I am not expecting much and its likely I won’t be disappointed. However it is a project that will give me something to focus on while I wait in limbo till my next oncology review. A local rag might pick it up, who knows. Not sure what I will do if they do.

With the admin done I start to draft the days blog with an increasing sense of unease as my jab site makes itself known and becomes sore. The Tesco order is imminent as I draft this and the smell of the croc pot evening meal is wafting through the house. Tonight is the night my partner has her singing lesson so I will read and see if anything comes to mind. I am looking forward to continuing to watch Riot Women on i-player before retreating to bed with my meds and the hope that the side effects of todays injection will be short lived. Somewhere in todays puttering and uncluttering I wrote a brief poem.

469
I’ve just binned my Poetry Reviews,
sorry Tim and Charles you where in them, 
but I am overwhelmed. 
So many words and poets,
ideas and inspirations 
I am drowning 
in what I cannot 
swim in. 
I try 
I really try 
to read it all.
This brain food 
is rich, 
like cake,
so many ingredients,
so many recipes for 
being human.
I want an apple,
sin and death,
not tittles, learning 
and competitions,
just guts
here and now. 
Poetry to make a 
tax loss by
and laugh
like Trump.                                 469 13-10-2025

Sometimes, just sometimes it all just feels too much, thankfully it passes.