101. Love Me Tender November. Part 1

Tender_thumbI had an appointment at Guys hospital to discuss my increasing PSA. The last count was 0.15 and at 0.20 I would need to start the dreaded radiotherapy and all the fun that entails. A few days before it was changed to a telephone appointment as those wonderful train drivers were going on strike again. This time around I got a surprise call from the elusive Mr Cathcart himself. It was short and sweet. My PSA was now 0.16 and unless I specifically wanted to pull the rip cord early, we would leave the radiotherapy until we reached that magical bonus number. I asked him what he thought, and he said it’s something we want to leave as long as possible. That was fine by me, nothing good ever came of pulling that ripcord early other that a swift gust of wind guiding you back up into the aeroplane’s propellers.Read More »

100. Do You Want The Keyring or The Telegram?

Keyring

If my blog were a person, it would now be getting a telegram from the King. Up until a few months ago that same telegram would have been from the Queen.

When I started this blog, I had no idea where it would take me, if I had enough to write about and even if anyone would read it. Since that very first blog, the UK has seen 3 prime ministers (could be 4 by the time this is published) and a new monarch. I lost pops, had 2 new jobs and survived a pandemic.

Becoming a spokesperson for Prostate Cancer UK was definitely one of the best decisions I have made and one of the few good things to come out of having prostate cancer. I have met some incredible people along the way, particularly those connected to Prostate Cancer UK. I have done a lot of fantastic talks – some more memorable than others for one reason or another. I have touched, helped and encouraged others which makes me incredibly proud and love what I’m doing.Read More »

96. Those Lying Grabbing Machines Are Not Only At The Seaside. Part 1

ClawYou may have played the machine as a child, at the very least you have seen it working. I can remember turning the air blue and slapping and banging the thing in frustration more than a few times. You deposited your coins, the machines grabber moved forward, then left, then right, then you hit the button of no return. The grabber slowly and expectantly descended into the rich sea of mouth-watering prizes. You shouted, you pleaded, begged even but ninety nine percent of the time it did nothing but grab sweet air.  

But that one percent was where the grabber actually caught the prize, shook it a little and maybe even lifted it before it slipped out of the grabbers clutches and back into the abyss.Read More »