Post 333: Head shoulders knees and toes, knees and toes.
That’s got you all singing Head, shoulders, knees and toes… knees and toes.
Actually, it was mainly shoulders today. My toes are fine, my head’s in a spin, but my knees are creaking.
A 1:30 pm appointment at Trauma and Orthopaedics clinic wasn’t a worry, but even then it ended up a rush. The morning, thankfully, was easy and mostly pain-free.
With three pillows under me, I’ve been able to rest more comfortably.
But I’ve become a bit of a nightmare for my Darling, and I really wish I wasn’t.
The blood test results are hanging over us like a dementor at Hogwarts — unseen horrors that drain the life out of you.
These last three months of “active surveillance” haven’t been the three months rest I thought they might be. I wanted something like normal life again. Maybe back in the marital bed. Regular walks. A bit of routine.
None of that has happened.
If only I wasn’t ill.
If only this cancer were temporary.
After three and a half years, I’m fed up with it. I wanted normal — not this slow fade towards my cremation.
It’s not fair. It’s bloody not fair.
What did I do to deserve this? You’re meant to start at stage one, not stage four. This isn’t just a “couples disease” — though it is that — it’s an insidious change of life that steadily strips everything away.
Every time I think I’ve pushed it back, it edges forward again. I start walking, feel hopeful, then my joints give way. Pain. Weakness. Fatigue.
Even socks feel like the enemy now — sent from prostate HQ just to wind me up. Something so simple has become a battle.
And my Darling…
She’s being called more and more. Asked for help more and more.
That drives me mad.
Then these blood results hit us.
This was meant to be a rest period.
We had Tenerife — and that was special — but even that turned against me in the end. The bed became my enemy. But we live and learn.
And now even my own bed feels the same.
How does that happen?
Why am I so weak?
Why, when I have time, am I stuck in bed or a chair… drifting off to sleep without warning?
This isn’t me.
This is my worst nightmare.
I don’t deserve this.
And neither does my Darling.
If I could rewind life back to 55… take a different turn… avoid all this…
I would.
Bugger this cancer.
Bugger treatments that nearly kill you.
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Stop.
That’s enough of that.
Today was actually about my shoulder.
We went to the hospital for a non-cancer issue — the frozen shoulder diagnosed back in December. The doctor explained a procedure where they inject air into the joint capsule to expand it and free movement.
I’d never heard of it, but I like the idea of something actually improving.
We were home by 2pm.
Later, we planned to head to Little Bro’s with a replacement hoodie — the birthday one was too small. This one should do the job.
But after an hour of TV, I had to go upstairs.
Back to the three pillows.
It was just after 4pm.
Next thing I knew, it was 7pm and I was being handed a perfectly formed cottage pie. I hadn’t even realised I’d slept three hours.
I must have needed it.
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My Darling asked me to tell the kids about the blood results.
I’m not sure what that achieves apart from more worry for them… but honesty matters.
I’m not sure I’m ready for whatever comes next.
PSA at 738… it could be thousands for all I care now. I stopped counting months ago.
The ALP… over 600…
It’s just a number, but it’s telling us something’s moving. Bone, liver — something.
The 9th of April will bring questions and answers. And decisions.
What does treatment even look like for me now?
Chemo? I’m not fit enough — even if I wanted it.
Radium-223? Maybe, if it (if the cancer) is still bone-only.
But the bigger question…
Do I take treatment just to extend more months like this?
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On a lighter note…
I want to be at my best this week so my Darling doesn’t cancel Dorset.
I want to go.
I need to go.
At 61, I should be thinking about buying a Harley motorbike and doing something ridiculous like getting a goatee or a my-little-ponytail — not making decisions like this.
(For the record — I hate Harleys I’m a Brit bike man.)
⸻
For now, I’ll focus on what matters.
My Darling.
This week.
The time we have.
Good night.
Sleep well.
