Recuperation is something you should make time for

Learning to Prioritise Recovery

I completed my last chemotherapy session on 8 February 2010. There was another session scheduled for 1 March, but when I saw the ninth session was set for 22 March, I protested, telling my consultant that I saw my life resuming after 1 March and was not mentally prepared for further chemotherapy beyond that date.

My objection resulted in my multidisciplinary team cancelling the eighth session, but that was not my original intention.

Having been given my life back, I was back on the job market, seeking an opportunity, when my consultant said I needed another six months of recovery before returning to work.

Although I had a very generous welfare package, I wanted to return to work. My sense of independence drove me, just as it was clear that bills and the mortgage had not taken a break due to my illness.

The Cost of Returning Too Early

Within seven weeks of my last chemotherapy session, I was back at work. Then my body told me a different story: I neither have the strength nor the capacity for this responsibility. I need to negotiate an adjustment or resign.

The management was very understanding, and I was granted Wednesdays off. This break helped greatly throughout 2010. It was clear I had not allowed myself enough time to recover. However, I did not have the luxury of taking extended time off, as I was self-employed.

More recently, when I was diagnosed with malignant prostate cancer in June 2024, I chose radiotherapy and decided to work through the treatment in September and October of the same year.

On three weekdays during treatment, I had to finish early due to unmanageable fatigue, a known side effect of radiotherapy.

Pushing Through Despite the Warning Signs

Yet, after radiotherapy, I worked for another month as my strength waned, and I realised I needed more specialised care, for which I am grateful Brian provided in Cape Town. I was on sick leave for seven weeks, and although I was paid, I felt the urge to return to work halfway through the leave.

I returned on the first working day of 2025. I was not fully ready, but my spirit was willing; my body struggled beyond its capacity. I pushed through when another two months off would have been ideal.

Throughout 2025, aside from my holidays, hospital appointments and an episode of epididymitis—after attending the hospital, I returned to work; by December, I still had 14 days of annual leave remaining.

For someone coming off a cancer diagnosis and radical radiotherapy, I had overworked myself out of recovery and into a demanding work environment, complicated further by political issues within management. The mentality of just powering through.

A Wake-Up Call

When, on Monday, I experienced the recurrence of unexplained juvenile stomach cramps, there was a suspicion that I could endure the pain, and I did for hours.

A contractual obligation that we delivered to the client every Monday, which I controlled, I promptly completed ahead of schedule, posting the results before I left the office.

While the stomach ache did subside, it took its toll. I was in bed all of Monday, on nil-by-mouth except for essential medication. The same continued through Tuesday and most of Wednesday.

Amidst this, I realised: I do not give myself enough recovery time because I am driven, compelled or obligated by responsibility, circumstance, or situation. None of which is healthy.

A Commitment to Change

It is a realisation I must keep in mind. I am not in a competition of appearances. Good health will always lead to greater productivity; any shortcomings become visible somewhere.

A Google NotebookLM AI Audio Overview Discussion of this blog

Strength to Endure: A Year of Recovery, Work, and Gratitude

Jolly Off the Year

As my year of work concludes today, I am filled with wonder and gratitude for all it has been. For so long, I have had the opportunity to finish the year on or just before my birthday; that's one of the benefits of it falling just ten days before the end of the year.

A Year of Significance

Many things make this year significant. A year ago, I was recuperating in Cape Town after radiotherapy for prostate cancer. It was also a difficult time; we had barely enough to make ends meet, but for the generosity of friends who contributed to help.

Although I should have extended my sick leave, I was eager to return home and regain some normalcy. From my experience 14 years ago, one of the signs of recovery was returning to doing what you once did: work, travel, the everyday routines, even if there was barely any strength to cope.

The Return Home

I returned to Manchester on the 30^th of December to find my home in complete disarray, and I had a house sitter for the seven weeks I was abroad. After about 20 hours of travel from door to door, I still don't know where I found the strength to run the vacuum cleaner around the apartment while keeping my composure at the state of my home, the occupant aware of when I was returning.

On the 3^rd of January, I signed on my work laptop and informed my managers that I would be back on Monday, the 6^th of January, and we would take it as we went. I did not use a paced return-to-work plan but dove straight in. Aside from the two-week break I took at the end of August into September, I have worked every single day, bar public holidays and hospital appointment days.

The Body's Remarkable Capacity

The body’s ability to adapt and condition itself to the challenges of a working environment, without what I had previously experienced, is admirable. The side effects of fatigue, nightly insomnia, bladder incontinence, and a fluctuating voice, notwithstanding, strength grew to endure and thrive.

There were times I wondered if, by the will of my spirit over the exhaustion of my body, I was doing too much and not adjusting pace, momentum, pressure, and ease enough. Thankfully, I had great support from my manager. He demonstrated much emotional intelligence and empathy as I pushed myself, sometimes being the first in the office and the last to leave.

The People in My Circle

Brian, my daily strength and support; Kola, my friend into the fifth decade; Funmi, who took me from the office at closing during the summer months; colleagues who were kind, understanding, and considerate; and the professional support personnel who listened, advised, and counselled. I could not have had better people around me.

To a stranger, they wouldn’t realise this was a man, 18 months after a prostate cancer diagnosis that required active treatment starting 15 months ago. Then, in September, the PSA readings were the lowest they have ever been. I read stories of men whose results were over 40 times the highest reading I had in March 2024.

Gratitude and Blessings

God, I am grateful for Your mercies and loving kindness.

To top it all, I still had 14 days of annual leave at the start of the month and agreed to work five more days this year, with the plan to carry those five days over into 2026. On the eve of turning 60, it has been a wonderful year. I am blessed beyond measure, and that is my testimony, for I live to tell better stories. Thank you to all who made 2025 the year it was, and there is more to come.

This Humpty Dumpty does get up

Ambitions live on

If ever I needed to be reminded, I was chasing waterfalls when I should have, for now, stuck to the rivers and lakes that have grounded me after that prostate cancer diagnosis in June last year, I faced a brutal reality on Wednesday night.

Inadvertently, I found myself having completed more than 10,000 steps in the previous six days, not out of deliberate effort, but in the drudgery of everyday events. That realisation on Wednesday indicated I needed just over 5,000 steps to make it 7 days in a row, a feat I have not achieved in quite a long time.

Maybe, make it a charted and timed walk, which records pace, heart rate for intensity, cadence and some other interesting, though mundane data along with the time to recovery. I set out on a route I had not plied in over a year, thinking I would catch the breeze on my walk.

Brought to ground suddenly

I was barely over a kilometre into my walk and out of nowhere, I do not think I tripped, my legs and feet seemed to scatter below my frame, and my brain kindly suggested I was going down. I was soon tumbling down, breaking my fall with my left knee and hands that thankfully had leather gloves on.

There was some momentum in the fall, and I rolled into half the outer lane of a dual carriageway that was not well-lit. I was so fortunate that no cars were coming. I picked myself up, took a few strides and rested on a wall as I caught my breath.

Someone waiting at the bus stop opposite must have seen it because he called from across the road to enquire if I was alright. I could only lift my hand in a gesture towards him.

A fresh whitish knee

A few minutes later, the debate was ongoing in my head about whether to continue or return home, my knee seething with the rage of a graze, my determination was to continue, and so I did to complete 13,408 steps for the day.

When I eventually got to look at my knee, I had revealed almost a square inch of flesh, but not much of a bleed compared to how I did not stop bleeding after I went for blood tests on Tuesday, and my shirt was stained.

There is a lot that I want to do, but I am not where I think I am; certain limitations constrain me even as I defy natural laws to do more than my body seems equipped for currently. The recovery process, as I am gently told by both my body and advisors, will take a while, I need to be patient with myself and adjust my goals within the framework of mental and physical abilities.

I have continued to exceed the 10,000-step goal, while my knee is not healing as fast as I had hoped. Meanwhile, Brian suggests I apply a dash of methylated spirit, considering how he’ll bawl at the application of a denatured and non-alcoholic dressing. Two fingers to my eyes and pointing those fingers at him.

Photons on the Prostate - XVII

All touched in different ways

I will be the first to say that there is life after cancer for those of us who have been fortunate to have some treatment and even a cure for the dreadful disease. Daily, I encounter many others like me who have put the event of cancer behind them and are getting on with their lives.

At the same time, it is becoming more obvious that a lot of people are affected directly or indirectly by cancer. It requires us to talk about it to learn about experiences, not so to give cancer prominence in our lives but for ideas to help with dealing with diagnosis, prognosis, therapeutics, and post-treatment of cancer.

The value of experience

The expertise and the experience of others have helped me a great deal. Colleagues whose parents have had or are undergoing treatment for cancer along with the issues that entail managing the disease all matter for understanding how it affects people and what accommodations might be necessary for their return to normalcy.

In my case, I am now five months after I commenced treatment for malignant adenocarcinoma of the prostate with hypofractionated radiotherapy. The two lingering consequences of the treatment are involved with my bladder, a known side effect for which I am taking medication and a rare and unusual side effect that pertains to the change in my voice.

A good outlook ahead

My GP has been informed by letter to initiate an investigation of the voice with the possibility of an otorhinolaryngologist (ear, nose, and throat consultant) referral.

I know nothing would happen until I make a fuss about it, as I always have to with adverse blood test results. I guess I am more preoccupied with getting back to normal, but if this persists beyond my next appointment with the oncology department in April, I will be agitating for action.

In general, I feel good, I need to adjust my sleeping patterns as I do not seem to be getting enough sleep at the right time of the day as I should. Things should improve rather than deteriorate, the prospects going forward are good.

Blog - Men's things - XXII

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - XVI

Sam: Most impactful in lowly endeavour

Beyond the strength we have

Understanding and appreciating frailty after illness or treatment for disease can be a difficult thing. We strive as much as possible to get back to normalcy even if our bodies suggest we are nowhere near the capacity for the abilities we once had.

The bodily stresses of fatigue, lethargy, weakness, or tiredness are signals requiring action from rest to additional medical attention towards some sort of resolution. The life and circumstances we live in harshly dictate the reality of there being no pills for the bills.

Even where we have a cushion of support to banish the concern of livelihood, we need some sort of activity to take our minds off infirmity and adversity. Having lived through this sort of thing, I am quite acquainted with the issues involved.

Escaping illness for work

Attending the office this morning, I was met with some rather sad news, the lady who maintains and cleans the office, with whom I have had a good rapport had passed on. I saw her barely 3 weeks ago, it was my first time back in the office since before I commenced radiotherapy in September.

We had a few conversations, a big catchup from the end of June when she had been in hospital for an extended period and though she was back at work, she looked rather gaunt and frail, we were both glad to see each other. It never occurred to me that it would be the last time.

The shock of learning of her demise was quite unsettling, someone would suggest she returned to work much earlier than necessary, but how do you gauge the right time to return to work if all your life you have espoused dignity in labour? Call some of us old-fashioned, we’d rather work than get by on handouts or welfare.

The value in everyone

For those who can game the system to exist in indolence, there can be no praise or adulation. I guess it belies the flaws in the system. To live a purposeful life is what matters. Sam, as I remember her was forthright, clear-minded, tough, and engaging. I remember my father not wanting me to converse with the help, but how could we be in proximity and not engage?

Sam’s work kept the office environment clean, conducive, clear, and comfortable. She was as much a member of our team as anyone else, if not one of the most important of us all for what she did, for without her contributions, no one would consider the office a place to work.

As I have always taken my time to chat to everyone most especially the cleaners, she would be sorely missed. May her gentle soul rest in peace. Her light has gone but her memory remains.

Celebrating a return from illness

Many happy returns

One of the hallmarks of recovery is the blessing of returning to doing the things you used to do. After my treatment for cancer in 2010 and the regaining of strength, I travelled from Amsterdam to Antwerp. It was my first international travel in over half a year; I used to travel internationally, at least once a month.

Illness comes with privations, first obviously with health and then another pressing issue is one of means, your resources seem to not stretch as much as they used to, whether you are earning or not. The way I view things, living is wonderful and living well comes with grace and favour, for which I give thanks and praise.

Daring for strength

While going to Cape Town in November looked like returning to normalcy after cancer treatment, I was far from able, I was quite frail. Embarking on a 22-hour journey from door to door in my condition was both determined and daring, however, it was for the care and support I needed in a time of vulnerability.

It was no holiday, and it did me much good. It was also a time to be with Brian, who doted over me at every step and cautioned me about trying to make a holiday of my recuperation, much as I desired not to have our time together left to the travails of just being nursed. It stretched our resources, but needs must.

The toll of return

I was last in the office the day before I commenced radiotherapy, as I left my workplace, I indicated I might be away for a while and did not know when I would be attending again. My return to the office last Wednesday was postponed to yesterday because of the inclement weather. We have a monthly gathering of Manchester-located members of my team who meet with the head honcho.

My managers were concerned about my facility, ability, and strength to attend, but I had missed my team, the last gathering I attended was in August.

I was up quite early and altered my route to avoid carrying my trolley case up and down steps. It was still dark when I left home, we are in the winter months, and I returned home in the dark too.

Striving over wilting

The day was successful, I had forms to fill in and return on my phased return to work. My voice was hardly in fine form, it exhibited tiredness and fatigue, but I never shirked from conversation or repartee. Everyone seemed pleased to see me, they came to my desk to ascertain how well I was doing, and every serious situation quickly dampened with humour.

By the middle of the day, I was beginning to wilt. Drinking decaffeinated tea is not an elixir by any stretch of the imagination; I just had to push through.

I was not inclined to engage in a harebrained scheme that involved messy activity, but it percolated in my absence as someone still wanted it realised. I gave my candid verdict, and a discussion tomorrow might help shape expectations.

Taking things easy

What yesterday taught me was that while I have every inclination to believe that I can fully return to work, the reality is that I need to pace myself as my strength and body are not yet operating at optimum capacity.

On getting home, I undressed and was already dozing off as I spoke to Brian about my day. I was exhausted, but for the day, I made great progress. I am grateful for that. As for my next return to the office, I cannot tell, it is working from home for the near future.

Men's things - XXII

The post-radiotherapy situation

Three months ago today, I rang the end-of-treatment bell in the radiotherapy department of Christie Hospital. Twenty weekdays of hypofractionated radiotherapy administered to the cancerous parts of my prostate gland had begun to take its toll.

These three side effects that took hold started with chronic fatigue quite early in the treatment, then insomnia, and uncomfortable bladder issues increasing the difficulty in passing urine along with sometimes stabbing and sharp pains in the urethra. The fatigue affecting my energy levels seriously impacted my natural voice which regularly fades into a tired sounding voice belying other issues.

As I have reported, my recuperation continues apace. Though I worked through the treatment and for a month thereafter, the side effects of radiotherapy had become such that I needed to totally take time off to rest, recover, and recuperate while availing myself of essential care, help, and support of my partner, Brian.

Some side effects persist, the main one around the bladder and urinary functions is managed with medication, I feel stronger and able, but I need to manage wisely my return to normalcy as it is becoming obvious that these things take time.

Take heed and test

At any opportunity especially with young and middle-aged black men, I talk about prostate health, the need for checkups and the essential work of removing stigma and embarrassment from talking about men’s things. Things around the male reproductive system that crudely and culturally define manhood, manliness, masculinity, or virility.

Any black man over 45 should be aware and conversant with their prostate health as statistically, 1 in 4 black men will encounter prostate cancer in their lifetime. The risk is heightened if your mother or sister has had breast cancer or if your father or brother has had prostate cancer. [Prostate Cancer UK: Black men and prostate cancer]

This matter should not be trifled with, if caught early you have many options for treatment and cure. What would be unfortunate is to find that prostate cancer has spread and metastasized and there is little that medical intervention can do.

Prostate enlargement or inflammation may not be indicative of cancer, but every occurrence of what is called benign prostate hyperplasia needs to be checked out. [NHS: Benign Prostate Enlargement]

Early action helps prompt intervention

You can easily determine if your prostate has problems by running the IPSS Calculator. The International Prostate Symptom Score (IPSS) is a somewhat subjective assessment of your bladder and urinary health since the prostate gland is a muscular switch that sits beneath the bladder, surrounding the urinary tract as it exits the bladder and controlling urinary and ejaculatory flows.

Regardless of the IPSS score, it might be useful in persuading your medical team to conduct a Prostate-specific antigen (PSA) test. In my case, adverse readings on other blood tests and the fact that I am in the above 45 cohort became the impetus for requesting a PSA test in early February 2024. [NHS: PSA test]

The PSA test result would determine if other investigations and interventions are necessary. Again, in my case, we caught it early, addressed the options, and commenced effective treatment, and I am on the way to full recovery.

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Photons on the Prostate - XIV

Beyond radical radiotherapy

Three months ago today, I began radical radiotherapy for adenocarcinoma of the prostate. It is just six months after I received a confirmed diagnosis, and it needed immediate active treatment after consultation with a multidisciplinary team on options for surgery or radiotherapy.

I worked through the duration of radiotherapy and for a month after the completion of the treatment. However, increasingly, I suffered more impactful side effects that started with chronic fatigue, and issues with my urinary system that limited most outdoor activity as I needed to be close to available conveniences, and one unexpected effect was the way those elements appeared to affect my voice.

My voice became weak and strained, usually determined by my energy levels that was quite sub-optimal most of the time. While against what my body was telling me, I tried to continue as normal, I really had to take a break and have added domestic support that being at home did not offer.

Time off to recuperate

The decision to travel to South Africa while somewhat frail was not taken lightly, but I knew the essential support for my recuperation was best under the watchful care of my partner. I availed myself of all the customer assistance provided by the airline for my journey, no sense of determination could have propelled me through the experience.

I can attest there has been considerable progress, the occasions of fatigue are less frequent, the urinary issues while still needing medication have eased, the sound of my voice is much better with a few relapses, and the painful discomfort that needed opioid medication has completed gone and I have now totally weaned myself off codeine with minimal adverse effects.

The weather in Cape Town might have contributed to my recuperation. I can begin to consider a return to normalcy, which might take a process of reengagement. Much as I try not to have that preoccupy me and concentrate on recovery, there is a world to return to in the New Year.

Looking ahead

I am grateful for the support and care I have received through the period from anticipation when I first had exploratory tests in February, through further investigations, diagnosis, and treatment. My long-suffering partner, close friends, extraordinary neighbours, siblings, and colleagues compassionately accommodated my vulnerability with understanding.

Each time I present an update, I appreciate how it was fortuitous that we caught a high prostate-specific antigen (PSA) reading when we did because at the advent of my treatment, the PSA reading had fallen within the normal range, but for the fact that an MRI scan leading to a biopsy had detected Stage 2, yet malignant prostate cancer.

The need for men especially Black men over 45 to pay attention to their prostate health. Do the checks and have the tests, catch things early and have the best options for recovery.

Blog - Men's things - Prostate Cancer blogs

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - XIII

Other references

Prostate Cancer UK: Black men and prostate cancer

MedScape: International Prostate Symptom Score (IPSS) Calculator

Urology Care Foundation: Benign prostatic hyperplasia (BPH)

NHS: Prostate Specific Antigen (PSA) test

Prostate Cancer UK: The PSA blood test

Wisely manage exertion or you crash

What a sedentary year

Thinking of my main exercise, walking, I have noticed that this year, I have just barely breached 2,000,000 steps in what might, from one perspective, seem like my laziest year in the last five years.

Without making excuses, I understand that the advent of cancer and the treatment of the same limited my facility for exertion in ways I could not have anticipated. I started radiotherapy taking the advice that I could continue doing the routine things I used to do. Still, the experience taught me a lesson that my mind was way ahead of my body, for my body to attempt to catch up.

When I was actively walking, my smartwatch and health app would suggest after every session, the expected recovery time. A serious workout of 13.5 kilometres in about 2 hours called for almost an 18-hour recovery time for my age and abilities. That intensive brisk walking activity has for now sunk into the annals of memory.

What I cannot do now

For instance, yesterday, we went into Cape Town for brunch and decided to walk the seafront promenade from the public baths to the V&A Waterfront. That was about 4.7 km in the warmth of a hot summer. I was caught out, my desire strong, but my strength waning, by the time we reached our destination, I needed Brian for support, and I was totally exhausted.

As much as I tried to push myself, I could do little. On getting back home, I crashed out and my voice when I had to make some calls was closer to a wisping whisper, almost unrecognisable to people who knew me.

Recovery is the package

The moral of the story is that I am not as able as I think I am. For all the youthful zest I possess, I am somewhere in the grandpa category of having to take things easy, and for everything I do, I need adequate and extended recovery time. This is compounded by the fact that I am recuperating and so, I need considerably more time to recover my strength.

Staying in Muizenberg has many benefits. The beach is just 5 minutes away, and it is a good long walk in the breeze to the kiteboarding and surfboarding areas. It is tranquil, refreshing, exhilarating, and good for the soul. On good days, we make the most of the situation, and that is the tonic we need.

Photons on the Prostate - XIII

Many improvements in symptoms

Thinking of the process of recuperation after radiotherapy, I am getting better at least with the signs I have observed. There are fewer occasions of my voice sounding tired and waned from exhaustion, the weather might have contributed too as it is summertime in South Africa.

The symptoms with the waterworks persist and while it will not be defined as benign prostate enlargement the fundamentals of it still exist as the prostate was enlarged because of acinar adenocarcinoma of the prostate, the radiotherapy treatment of the cancer would have further inflamed the prostate and constricted the urinary tract, for which I have to take daily medication to ease water flow.

The image below best describes issues of an enlarged prostate, and links at the end of the blog give more context. The need to check your prostate health is important, I suggest you use the International Prostate Symptom Score (IPSS) Calculator as a starting point to buttress the case to your doctor for a Prostate Specific Antigen (PSA) test.

Courtesy of NHS Overview of Benign Prostate Enlargement

Other symptoms of concern

As pertains the waterworks, a polite reference to the bladder issues; there is lesser urgency or frequency, but the weak flow, straining, and nocturia are issues to manage as the prostate heals and hopefully returns to a normal size.

One other side effect that statistically affects others more but has been less of a concern for me is with bowel issues. They are manageable, but mishaps do occur. I reckon part of my original pain management medication has positively impacted expected diarrhoetic symptoms, but I must watch for irregular bowel movements.

What has not normalised is my sleep patterns, they are out of kilter. I suffer a lot from insomnia leading to tiredness during the day with the documented sleep record on my smartwatch showing barely 3 hours of night sleep and naps of about 60 to 90 minutes dotted around the day.

At the church service that I attended yesterday which started at 9:30 AM, I was wilting within an hour into the service. I hope this improves without having to resort to sleep inducement through medication. It might be something to discuss with my medical team.

Appreciating rest and recuperation

More importantly, it is the immediate support and care of my partner that has helped me. It was not easy facing a cancer diagnosis alone in Manchester, I had to rearrange some priorities for the uncertainties ahead. I received a confirmed diagnosis in mid-June but postponed any discussion about options for treatment for a month, while I took time to meet with my partner.

After I returned, the discussion about radical surgery and its side effects were not that encouraging, but I had to wait another fortnight to discuss radical radiotherapy and what confusion followed the different options in that area that we had a lot of back and forth. It was the second-hand experience of others that gave a better insight into what it entailed.

When the radiotherapy commenced in September, I worked through it, keeping up my routine as much as possible, though the fatigue set in, from the onset, at the first weekend, just after 2 treatments. Then, I tried to maintain productivity for another month after the treatments concluded as I realised radiotherapy did have a greater toll on my body than I anticipated.

Making the best of this rest period is critical even as I yearn to get back into professional activity. The art of restful relaxation is one I am yet to master even as I try to distinguish between holiday and recuperation, I should not make my recuperation seem like a holiday, just because I am away from home.

Blog - Men's things - Prostate Cancer blogs

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - XII

Other references

MedScape: International Prostate Symptom Score (IPSS) Calculator

Mayo Clinic: Benign prostatic hyperplasia (BPH)

Urology Care Foundation: Benign prostatic hyperplasia (BPH)

NHS: Prostate Specific Antigen (PSA) test

Prostate Cancer UK: The PSA blood test

From arrest to rest

A necessary situation

To think it was exactly two months ago that I walked into the Christie Hospital to begin 20 sessions of hypofractionated radiotherapy to treat malignant prostate cancer.

Until then, I felt nothing apart from what the blood work told us that further investigation revealed. I could have had a year totally oblivious of a growth in a delicate part of my anatomy that could be a cause of serious illness and death.

All through treatment that happened over 4 weeks of weekdays, I barely slowed down activity, though, as fatigue and other issues took hold, I made adjustments.

A betraying voice

This was brought home to me when I attended a conference having apologised for my low energy levels affecting the strength of my voice. Most listeners would have wondered why a sick man is pushing himself so hard. One sought out the management to raise their concerns.

I preferred to have some occupation rather than a distraction; I was accommodated even as others suggested I take time off.

The voice rarely improved; it bears the hallmarks of extreme exhaustion, yet, it is my voice, my tool of expression, slightly battered by resonant. Let me not suggest that it is indefatigable because fatigue has a role in moderating the sound.

Giving due consideration

Radiotherapy is painless and by that reckoning may seem harmless too. The havoc it has wreaked on my waterworks is one I hope to put behind me, along with the urgency that hits me when I need to map a route that offers immediate use of conveniences or sit at home.

The other consideration is finding the strength to do the simple things. It is five weeks since the end of treatment. The cancer is blasted but the body is far from a good state of recovery.

The decision to embark on a journey for the opportunity to access love and care was attacked from many quarters as much as others saw the need for it.

I made a determination after realising I needed to give myself both the time and the rest to recover, not sitting alone in cold Manchester but in the warmth of Cape Town with Brian.

Accepting my vulnerability

The discomfort of being carted around airports in a wheelchair in the knowledge that I truly am not fit enough to do the things I did without concern, before September is that independent streak denying my vulnerability.

However, I know how having a Radar key to access disabled toilets has prevented me from wetting myself the many times I have been out. This is all temporary.

I will get better, fully regain my strength and vigour, and then receive the all-clear assessment in April. What I need to tell myself is I need both the time and the rest to get well. Without that, I arrest my recovery.

Thought Picnic: Using time to recover

 

Ringing the 'End of treatment bell' on the 9th of October 2024

To ring that bell

It is four weeks since I rang the bell signalling the end of my radiotherapy treatment for malignant prostate cancer. From the moment I saw what the bell was meant for in the waiting area of the radiotherapy department at the Christie Hospital, I had every desire to make it toll.

For the 20 weekdays that I attended sessions for treatment, I only heard the bell ring thrice, the first two times was within ten minutes of each other, and then it was almost two weeks later that I heard it again. We all applauded at the celebration the ringing meant.

Yet, the distance in time from the said treatment has not resulted in the lessening of the effects of it, I have just soldiered on with the force of will and determination when I should have taken some time off. That would happen in earnest, and I am looking forward to it.

Perspective to recovery

Thinking back to almost 15 years ago; over five months, I endured 7 gruelling sessions of chemotherapy every three weeks that I was told, I would at the minimum need 6 months to recover. There were many things to recover from, weaning myself of opioid pain killers took three months after I felt no more cancer pain.

My return to work, just six weeks after chemotherapy was too much to manage that for the rest of the year from the end of March, I had Wednesdays off. My ambulatory performance had me lagging well behind people having a leisurely walk and the recovery of my sense of taste for different flavours took just about as long too.

Strangely, the seemingly lasting effect of chemotherapy was it shortened the time in which I was allergic to pollen from about 6 months to around 2 months. If anything, recovery from treatment for cancer takes time. We sometimes find ourselves too afraid to take all the time necessary to recover.

The gents are gentle on my mind

Sometimes, you just need the help

Yesterday afternoon, I braved the idea of going out for essential shopping for the simple reason that the kind of domestic help I require is unavailable.

Thinking to 15 years ago when I had my other encounter with cancer, I had the prospect of being discharged from the hospital early, but only after they had arranged for a nurse to visit me at my apartment every day.

Until that arrangement had been secured, I was not going to be let out of the sight of the ward nurses and staff until the logistics were sorted out. It happened that my on-off partner did come to stay with me for a few months, ensuring the very basic domestic issues were taken care of apart from the fundamental ability to cook.

The difficulties with getting good help

In this new dispensation, it has been a bit different, an old flame does visit to help with things, but we can agree that it is both sporadic and unreliable. Some have suggested I get a carer to manage things, without considering that would entail a specific set of instructions and particularities that it has taken a good while to even school into those who know me.

Imagine sending a stranger to specific shops for particular things without any consideration of substitution, I know what I need. I cannot have artificial sweeteners generally as they can worsen migraines, beyond that, they will aggravate issues with my waterworks. We can get cranberry juice from any shop, but they all have artificial sweeteners except for the brand bought in the large M&S supermarkets, the smaller M&S shops stock the artificially sweetened varieties.

My kind of shopping revolves around different supermarkets for choices based on brand, variety, quality, cost, and knowing what works for me. My sojourn into the city centre yesterday which was just over two hours visiting four shops included three toilet visits.

All the gents are gentle on my mind

The first, an urgency that presented before I had reached the tram stop, some 700 metres from home. I opted for the disabled toilet in the central library because access to the public toilet in the city council annexe which was nearer had been obstructed by police activity.

In the end, I used my Radar key thrice, to gain access to the disabled toilets and for once, all the three toilets had coat hooks for my coat and hat.

What is different is I used to walk to all these places with ease but between the strength to perform and the anxiety of toilet needs, each outing requires careful and deliberate planning apart from appreciating that the reliance on others can be a bit stressful. They have their own lives that you can only rely on what they offer rather than on what you need and demand.

Making the best choice for recuperation

Back to the issue of having the support and care for domestic arrangements, I have a partner, we are in a long-distance relationship, and this presents an opportunity for them where they have heretofore felt incapacitated to help from afar.

I continually reassure him that I still have his best support in the circumstances. How better to recover and recuperate than with a loved one; paying a stranger to attend to you might work where those you would typically rely on, willingly abdicate that responsibility and generously cater for the alternative, but you are left to the mercy of the stranger’s humanity being a bonus, if available.

I guess few would never be convinced of the validity of our relationship, but that is not my problem. I understand it would take travelling almost 10,000 kilometres to be in receipt of that support and care.

I think it would be more than worthwhile for me, for him, for my recovery, and our relationship. He knows me, he knows my needs, he understands me well, and we are coming to six years together.

I am glad for the fact that there are more people who understand the intrinsic value of people, setting, and relationships for recuperation, I intend to make the best of it.

Photons on the Prostate - XI

In fatigues in fatigue

It is now 15 days since the end of my radiotherapy treatment for prostate cancer, I do feel I am well on the recovery path, though the side effects are still screaming in my system in ways that are difficult to ignore.

Two things remain a feature of this situation: fatigue that modulates my voice on a spectrum from the prepubescent choir boy to the softly spoken young adult. I had forgotten the sound of my natural voice before I commenced treatment. My walks to the surgery and the corner shop lack coordination, as do my stumbling, a speedy canter with short strides.

That urge you dread

The waterworks, still frequent and urgent, straining to start and not completely emptying, on rereading the medication leaflet, I should have been prescribed this long before treatment began because an enlarged prostate already constricts the urethra, my IPSS score was 19, and radiotherapy was both going to inflame the prostate gland as much as irritate the inner lining of my urinary tract.

I had unnecessarily suffered for weeks until it was unbearable, and the burning feeling has eased a bit, but every urge to pass water is met with trepidation and discomfort. You have to do what you have to do.

On the voice part, my colleagues suggested I appear in full regalia for a drag show, shoes included, and they do not come cheap. Like honestly? Anyway, how else do you get through this without a lot of humour and hope? A future appointment is just five months hence, I might need a long break soon.

Blog - Men's things - Prostate Cancer blogs

Thought Picnic: Life in the times of chicken

Life creates us as we create life

There is a part of me that I probably do not acknowledge that much that some people see in me as being a survivor for which I am thankful and grateful for the gift of life and living. For a long time, what has become the story of my life, mostly unplanned but navigated in the baby steps and the giant leaps that on reflection appears accomplished; everything has just been life and I cannot live another life but my own.

That I have by the accident of events I have lived through sometimes become a shoulder to lean on is not a role I have sought, but it is one to which I hope to deploy my full humanity, consideration, and attention, because for anyone met with infirmity or adversity, things are tough, and perspective is difficult to obtain when you are in the midst of an ordeal.

In the life of chicken

The way reality and realisation begin to materialise sometimes hits us by surprise if not shock that we are probably not as young, as agile, as composed, as strong, as prepared, or as ready to perform as we once were able to. We are dogged by our history robbing us of a moderated present with a difficulty in squaring up how consequential things are that recovery will take time and pace may never return to Peak Me.

A friend opined, “I should accept the spring chicken is more of an old rooster now.” To which I responded thankful for the frame of mind that allows that kind of inspiration in the propinquity of the exchange. “One thing, it is the rooster that announces the breaking of the dawn, that the night and the nightmare is over.” When the spring chicken has matured into an old rooster, the time of spring chicken things and living in danger is over, as the rooster heralds a time of living with peace.

I pray that for everyone going through a storm in their lives, the calm would soon come to give them comfort, safety, succour, and security that they can begin to cherish the little moments, start living from good to better, day to day, and see the days tally into a story of once not being able to see beyond the night to having experienced on the whole, a wonderful life.

Thought Picnic: Being humanly human in my humanness

Many little things

Even as stoic as one might appear to be, appearances can quite easily be deceptive; mental capacity can so soon be depleted by the confluence of situations and events that are outside one’s control, yet impactful because of one’s attachment or affinity to those things.

It is a situation one cannot put into words to explain to any coherence, the what, the who, the when or the how, it’s like a faucet dripping, nothing of note as it drips, but significant it is collects and makes a sound for each drip. If dripping into a container, it soon fills up and you can be driven to distraction just hearing that interminable dripping.

Let it drain away

It is a kind of fluster that sleep will not cure and that is if you can find that kind of restful sleep that can make you relax and awake with a sense and feeling of strength and readiness for the day. From experience, you just give it time to dissipate, treat it like a form of intoxication that eventually wears off for the return of your sobriety. Then I am too much of a control freak that intoxication is not a lived experience.

A type of frustration seems to loom making you quite irritable and showing up in a lot that you do, decisions that come to the fore that with hindsight will have you nodding to yourself that you have allowed yourself through circumstance to be a fool. You just cannot deceive yourself even if you choose to ignore the obvious.

Every bit human

Vulnerability and naivety are dangerous condiments in a time of apparent mental weakness. You know you are in it and hope it is over before it becomes a harbinger of rue. Obviously, this is where companionship matters, we are far apart and planning on a rendezvous soon as we have not been together since mid-January.

I appreciate his helplessness because he wants to do so much that cannot be bridged by our separation, his soothing and wise words are a great comfort, a tower of strength he is and so quickly notices when I am not particularly there and now, he understands to give me the space to sort my head out. If we were together, the human touch, the hug, that feeling of time collapsed, love expressed, and tenderness experienced would have made all the difference.

It would get better, I can do this much as I acknowledge, I am only being human, my strength will return, and the wonder of hope will refresh me for what is ahead. All towards the healing of being with and the comfort of seeing Brian, keeps me going.

Back II Eden from stress to recovery

From intensity to recovery

After I updated my smartwatch, there were two additional features that I found interesting the Stress assessor and after my walking exercises depending on the intensity based on the heart rate, the estimated full recovery time. These are readings I did not have before and without that knowledge, you probably do not know when to pace yourself, when to take some rest, or when to stop.

I find that this might also apply to my blogging. I could be quite prolific with writing, but there are times when you have put out so much, you are so totally vulnerable and exhausted from the depth of feeling and expression that has come out in words, you need to pause, reflect, and consider what direction you want to take after.

Easy does it nicely

That I did not feel compelled to just tap away at my keyboard in the last two days was good, I did not have to do anything even if there were earwigs of blogs percolating in my head and incubating in my mind. I am under no duress apart whatever stress I place myself under. You can let things flow just naturally, unbothered and unperturbed, then return at your convenience to address other issues.

There is so much happening and many things that have not found the form of words that would help the conveyance of purpose, context, and intent. Each day is a story told of love and life. Like the words of a song that wafted into my consciousness like the jingling of tubular bells to the gentle breeze in the middle of the day, “Let’s get back to Eden, live on top of the world.”

Recovery always takes some time

Laughing at the gas

Since I last wrote on my blog, there have been experiences and victories, none to great celebratory aplomb, but all to be grateful for.

The colonoscopy procedure is as uncomfortable as it gets, though nowhere near other health or therapeutic challenges I might have faced before. To say I was not apprehensive would be to deny my reality as it lay before me.

All procedures come with risks and some can be quite serious, ending in fatalities, for that is just a possibility. It is one of the reasons why I was not keen on sedation, that itself would have required having someone with me for 24 hours to ensure any turn was immediately addressed.

Rather, I opted for Entonox, a medical combination of nitrous oxide and oxygen, commonly known as laughing gas. I did at one time in the midst of the discomfort begin to laugh too.

A mile of tubing

Arriving at the hospital a fortnight ago, fully evacuated for internal examination, I noticed that MoviPrep had in just under 16 hours had me shed 5 kilograms. That is nominally the weight of stuff moving through your digestive system, depending on your kind of appetite.

I changed into a hospital tunic, and we were advised to bring a dressing gown and slippers, we did the formalities of questions, waivers and gagging orders, exculpating the hospital from loss of many things including life and then the rather affable doctor came round to see me, assure me of the ease of the procedure, what would be done and that I did not need to worry.

The room in which I was invaded by instrument and curiosity barely held the bed, the equipment and three seats for the staff attending to me, I got comfortable and was offered the breathing apparatus that was left for me to regulate how much I wanted to inhale to attain the delirium to banish the discomfort.

After a digital insertion, the procedure began, a probe with a camera and lights travelled the whole length of my large intestine, it was like they had travelling a mile, from whence a total of 21 biopsies were excised by pincers that looked like pliers in a mechanic’s workshop. The discomfort mainly came from the air that was passed into my entrails to help increase visibility and navigation through my system. I felt like a balloon at one stage.

All well and good

All they viewed was on a monitor that I had one of the best views of, it was interesting to learn that the appendix was not as close to the end of the colon as I thought it was, it was at the other end, at where the colon first descends. The vivid red colour of my innards was a view of something I would never have contemplated seeing in a lifetime or without a career in medicine.

On the way out, which took much longer than the insertion process, a polyp was excised for laboratory analysis an in just about 50 minutes we were done.

For all my discomfort, I was considered a good patient and was soon wheeled out to the recovery room where other patients, some of whom I had chatted to before the procedure were recovering too. One of them had had 7 colonoscopies before the one he was going to have on that day, a veteran of sorts with just enough comforting words for a first timer.

In recovery, I was offered some tea and a sandwich as I had been nil-by-mouth for over 24 hours. The effects of Entonox are supposed to leave the body in under 10 minutes. However, from the bloating and the biopsies, there is quite a great risk of internal bleeding and infection, so care must be taken after that procedure.

Just over an hour after the procedure, I was ready to leave the hospital, I called a taxi cab and returned home to recuperate fully for the rest of the day. After this, the advice is not to fly for at least a week, or better still 2 weeks.

I think I am feeling a lot better after that encounter to the tunnels of life, the somewhat short recovery time is, in reality, longer from the experience, not necessarily the trauma.