While I’ve been pragmatic about my cancer, it is what it is after all, it’s hard not to be frustrated that is struck at about the same time I was at my fittest.

I’d shifted seven stone over eighteen months.  A solo visit to Madrid last year found me almost floating around that marvellous city, eating up the miles.  And then the attack on my bones began.

Today I wake up with slightly less pain than yesterday, having enjoyed ten hours sleep.  But my four drug pain-killer combi had been used in full force.  Along with an attempT to stay still to minimise twists on whatever’s triggering the pain inside.

A call to the hospital says max out your painkillers and we’ll see you Monday.  I try to avoid tramadol and amytriptoline during the daytime as I don’t want to sleep or feel like a zombie.  So paracetamol and ibuprofen it is.  The latter may get replaced by my naproxen in four hours.

The reality is I can hardly move unless I’m drugged up.  Hopefully my visit to the podiatrist this afternoon will coincide with a parking space right outside!  Walking isn’t fun.

For now though, all I can do is medicate and suffer.  And hope it just fixes itself within a few days.  I’d rather be in good nick for those Vegas flights.

Alcatraz Booked