Groundhog Blog 1- Tuesday 5th December 2017

My Groundhog Log radiotherapy at the beatson

Woke up, had my porridge...went my walk, rough sleep, a mix of really hot flushes and sweats, due to my hormone injection yesterday, and anxiety (one chap likened it to cool turkey although I have never experienced cold turkey). I think it is a realisation of a year long wait to reach this point and a venture into the unknown ( doo de doodoo- Q Twilight Zone music). To take my mind off things my wife decided to take a trip to TK Maxx? Oh joy of joys. Nothing beats a bit of retail therapy!

Anyway. Today is the first day of my radiotherapy. The letter arrived a few weeks ago with a list of twenty two separate appointments where I attend The centre for cancer excellence, 'The Beatson', Glasgow. I have to be there for at least 3pm in the afternoon with a five minute session where I have to drink three full glasses of water and wait half an hour and then be called in for the radiotherapy treatment. That third glass has me wanting to run for the bog by the way but I can't release the pee without their permission! So its squeaky bum and tie a knot on it time.

Now the thought of travelling up and down every midweek day from Irvine to Glasgow is not something I relish and I am sure there are a fair number of you out there having to face the same probleml. I thought long and hard about travelling daily with my wife in my own car as the Beatson is a forty minute drive from Irvine but people who have previously been through this advised that it will take its toll, especially in the latter weeks and I should request transportation provided by Ayrshire Cancer Support. The Cancer Bus ( Q The Who's Magic Bus).

My driver today is a chirpy octogenarian who reminded me of my old Boys Brigade sergeant. "Get that buckle brassed up Gemmell". Would you believe it? He was a BB sergeant! A seasoned cancer bus veteran and knows all the dodges he began to tell me of his own experience with prostate cancer a number of years ago and how he had survived it. A story that put me right at ease as here I was sitting beside a fellow sufferer telling me things that sounded familiar in a matter of fact manner. He remembers in his day there were no Beatson's or 'fancy dancy' Star Trek machines and how things have moved on and improved.

The drive up was through Dalry towards the Glasgow motorway. A road I have driven many a time, and for the first time in years, I could look around and do a bit of site seeing on the way up. Cars are everywhere and when you are a driver you never really notice it so much as you are too busy dodging them. My wife needs to get a license, this is great fun. We make it through the Clyde Tunnel and on to the Beatson. Took a wee bit longer than I would take but it gave me a chance to chat about the weeks ahead. He was a faunt of information and i was really clued up and ready to take on the challenge without the added stress of trying to find my own way.

I was directed to treatment room L and sat in a cool waiting room with other fellow cancer sufferers. One thing I instantly recognised was that there were people who were in a worse condition than me. I felt a bit like a fraud although I remember my driver saying earlier that "its all relevant, you have cancer to and need treated or it could get worse." I realised then that I was in the 'prevention zone'. Caught early and hopefully nip it in the bud zone. This was due to me requesting a PSA test and catching it (I hope) at an early stage.

The nurse asked me to drink my water and came back half an hour later and took me into this huge room with a machine that looked like an enlarged food processor with the jug missing. I was asked to dress down to my rather sexy undies may I add (glad Julie bought me some new Pringle pants or it could have been embarrassing haha) and there I was in my wee short, stalky, Scots hairy legs shuffling my way on to the hard plastic slab knees up, feet firmly in the footy box, head settled into a solid block (there going to behead me) and then the nurses accurately began shifting my butt so the beams could hit the cancer. "Right Mr Gemmell." she said. "Date of birth?" I said "18-9-77." "Aye right, in your dreams old yin." she said. DOB out the way it was time for the ride to begin.

There I lay as if on an Alton Towers ride, a siren goes and the big round disc is lowered , two metal wings drift into my sides like the dragon in Game of Thrones and the whirl of the electric motors start and the dragon starts to revolve around my body firing its high powered x ray at the wee nasty bit in my outback. No pain but so much to gain. Lasted roughly ten minutes and it was over. Piece of cake.

Slipped off the plank and back into my clothes in the wee booth and the nurse asked how I felt and said "see you tomorrow."

I walked back through the winding walkway, a bit like a fitba tunnel and into the tea area where my cancer bus driver was waiting, greeting me with a smile. "All done?" he said.

Back to the car which was parked right at the doorway. Just like a rock star I was chauffeured into my limousine (okey we can dream), no walking through the rain looking for the car park and we were off back home. What a service. Thanks Ayrshire Cancer Support.

Day one over. Twenty one to go.

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Groundhog Blog 2- Wednesday 6th December

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Woke up and had my porridge. Went my walk. Not a bad nights 'sleep'. Slept until 5am this morning. Started off hot flushy but improved and fell into a good sleep. Sat up for half an hour and returned to bed as the weather outside was freezing and I needed to 'snuggle in', if you know what I mean? Received my drivers phone call last night and I will have a new driver. Apparently they have over forty drivers who volunteer to take us up to the Beatson. This time it was a lady driver and we had two other passengers on board.

A huge peep of the horn outside and I was off. I was introduced to the guys and driver and boy did we chat all the way up and down and boy could we chat. It was my first experience of sharing the 'bus' and for me it proved the most enlightening so far. Our driver tells us about her twenty odd years volunteering with ACS and has met many a cancer patient good, bad or indifferent. She asked me what I had and told me in good old fashioned South Ayrshire village patter that " you had better get ready to do the toilet regularly." It was all in jest but half serious half not but it was great to tap into her wealth of experience driving cancer sufferers to and from hospital for years. No radiotherapy yet but for the next four weeks I may have to prepare for potty training again? Ha Ha!

Both men came from South Ayrshire. One suffering from lung cancer and the other a brain tumour. We asked what stages we were all at. The chap with the brain tumour had been travelling for two weeks already and receiving radiotherapy whereas the other was a cancer bus 'newbie' like myself and receiving chemotherapy. But, what surprised me was the attitude of the group. Here was I thinking that suffering from cancer and travelling like this for treatment would make us feel down. No way.

Our driver had been through the mill as well and to my surprise when she spoke about cancer issues it was as if it was just normal chat. She started to tell us about her experiences which broke the ice for the rest of us. My lung cancer friend is an unconscious comedian similar to an old school telly comedian, you know, the 'boom boom' type. The wife this and the wife that but all in jest. He liked putting on a bet or two and was once a fishmonger. I told him I loved cod fish suppers. He gave a huge sigh and said not to eat cod its the scavenger of the sea. He said haddock was best but started to tell us that he watched 'Attenburgh' the other night and saw how fish were eating the plastics thrown away by us. Probably the only serious moment we had but all agreed.

In the front seat was our brain tumour friend. Very quiet but taking in the conversation as I noticed a few smiles on the dash mirror. I di not get a chance to get to know because he was in the front but I did take it that his condition had a quietening effect in him. It wasn't until later after our treatment when we met in the cafe that I got to know him better. We were waiting on our other friend and I asked him what he did before. He started to tell me he was an artist and I asked if he had a card. I looked up his website there and then and was highly impressed with his work. He was also an author and had written a book about his time in the Foreign Legion. "The Foreign Legion'?" I said. Wow. I am going to buy your book and have a read.

Peoples lives have always interested me. I used to have a two hour radio show and interviewed a number of people over a seven year period and loved hearing the lives of others. Here I was doing my wee radio stint again but transmitting in the cancer bus, enquiring and listening to others life stories. Loved it and I know it was only my second day on the cancer bus, but meeting both men and our driver and hearing their experiences really humbled me. I would love to tell you more but there would be a few expletives and liables flying around. It was all in great fun though and being with people I had never met before in my life in such a short space of time and telling so much about ourselves, inspired me. I felt reassured that my long frequent journeys ahead would not be as bad as I thought. The camaraderie reminded me of my football days back in the dressing room. and I began to think that if I did not have cancer I would never have had the privilege of getting to know them.

By the way. Our driver took the wrong turn at the Clyde Tunnel and we started to drive round in circles and sometimes coming up against dead ends before eventually we found a route to the motorway. You should have heard the slagging we got in the back seats " Trust you to come from Irvine, Gemmell!"

We were ages late and you could hear the beep beep beep of fingers on the phone panels beeping and texting our families to let them know not to worry," it was all eddy's fault, he took us to the pub and we will be a wee bit late." Aye right.

Groundhog Blog 3- Thursday 7th December

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Woke up and had my porridge, went my walk in the freezing, icy streets.Not a bad sleep again. My wife swears it is to do with this ginger, herbal tea we take late evening. Tastes like wood chippings but if it gives me a sleep, cool. Received my phone call last night and we have a new driver this time and two different passengers on the bus. The doorbell rang and there was a big man all courteous and gentleman like escorting me to the back seat, even holding the door for and even holding the door for me. In you go my Lord.

I introduced myself to lady who tells me this will be her last day travelling for chemotherapy and hopes it will be her last. Not that she did not appreciate the treatment but more that she has hopefully got rid of the cancer and move on. I am still unclear as what type of cancer she has but she did wear what I call 'the cancer bandana' on her head. Obviously she was experiencing the loss of hair. She tells me that most of the time she and her husband walk a lot and things in the future will change. Not that her past was bad but I think she meant that since being diagnosed her thought processes have changed. It appears to be a 'blessing in disguise ' for some people.

The chap in the front was very quiet all the way there so I did not get a chance to find out anything about his journey so far.

Somehow we got on to the conversation of football. Both travelling friends came from South Ayrshire again and our driver mentioned Dalmellington. That rung a chord with me as when I was a young lad I played for Caraigmark Burntonians Junior Club. Lo and behold, our driver played for them to. From then on we took junior football stadium tour telling where was the worst and best pitches we played on. He said that Troon and Irvine Meadow were the best to play and he remembers Ardeer Rec's pitch as very good and played against Bobby Lennox, who used to play for them. I remember Ardeer fondly as my uncle John played in that very team and I used to go and watch him when a lad. Uncle John helped me a lot when I was young encouraging me to train and play football and even allowing me to join in with the rec team training. A legacy that stuck with me to this day. Thanks Uncle John. My first real taste of junior football.

I asked our lady friend if she was into football? "No." she replied. More the walking but she has been around the places we were talking about and mentioned Muirkirk. Our driver said it was one of the worst places to play especially in winter. I said I remembered the pitch when it was on top of a hill and the dressing room was in the corner and was heated by one small coal fire. This was supposed to heat the water but there was no chance. When the game was over I remember just putting on my clothes and heading to my mothers and having a bath then. My mother called me a 'Clatty bugger'. But I did say there was no shower and most of us just came home.

We arrive at the Beatson and I make it a point to chat with the man in the front. He was going in my direction. I asked how he was and began to tell me that he had terminal cancer and was not returning with us as he may be kept in. The word 'terminal' hit me like a ton of bricks. I had never encountered anyone as yet who were terminal with a set time to live and it touched me deeply. We stopped at the lifts and I we said a our cheerios and shook hands. That handshake will stay with me for the rest of my life. For me, personally, it was the moment that made me really appreciate what I was going through and what others had to encounter in the Beatson and how I appreciate the work being done in the Beatson.

There I was in the waiting room with familiar faces waiting on their turn for radiotherapy. I say hello and straight away the nurse calls me to drink my three cups of water. I had a pee first as I learned that if I didn't I may embarrassingly release my waters while on the slab. A quiet half hours contemplation as no one appeared to be in the mood to chat for some reason and off we went in the blender for my session.

I said to the nurse that I read that you were to avoid cycling while receiving radiotherapy? She was unclear and would find out for me the following day. I enjoy cycling on my fatbike and want to build my strength during this treatment.

Off we went to meet our driver in the cafe and we had a new travelling friend returning home to Mossblown.

A chatty, chirpy, cocky man who had been in the Beatson for three weeks receiving stem cell implants. He had leukaemia. He was telling me that he was not allowed out the ward area due to his treatment and his regime was very regimented. He began to tell us about the patient who shared his room. They were under strict house rules not to venture out but this guy was a rebel and sometimes did not do as he was told. One night he actually went out for a meal and since then he has been in the high dependency unit since. He was at great pains to tell us to listen to these guys. Do as you are told. They know what they are talking about as it could be a matter of life or death if you do not follow the rules.

He was a keen amateur footballer and tried his luck in junior footballer but it did not work out. He said the team would not pass ball to him?

Our lady friend was on a high. Not because of the medication but that was her last day. I asked if she rang the bell? Yes, she had that privilege. In the Beatson tradition has it that once your therapy is over you ring a bell. Each treatment area has a bell hanging on the wall and you ring it after your last appointment. A pleasure I hope to have soon.

The trip back appeared to go very fast and before i knew it we were at my home. I washed all good luck and well done in reaching the end of their treatment and off to see my relived wife and some pork chops.

Groundhog Blog 4- Friday 8th December

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Woke up and had my porridge and had another great sleep. Walked a mile or two in the cold. I feel the combination of the witches brew (my wife herbal tea) and walking helps. Received my phone call last night and its the same driver as yesterday. Its Friday and the last day of the week for therapy. We take the grand daughter. who is four months old, a walk and have a coffee while she slept (fingers crossed). Starting writing up my diary for yesterday and wondered who would be my travelling partners this time on the cancer bus. The big fella (our driver) arrived on time and in the car were the same guys from Tuesday. Our driver shouted "theres your rear guard line Eddy!" One of the guys said "I hope the big yin disny get lost like the other one on Tuesday, Its Friday and lets get down the road sharpish?"

Our driver (the big yin) took the Barrhead road this time and I warned about the ridiculous potholes on the way. He tells me was an ambulance driver in his day and travelled these roads a lot but its been a wee while. Bet he could tell a tale or two?

We get into conversation about how we felt after the radio therapy and I said there was no significant difference.

The man in front was our artist and ex Foreign Legion soldier. He began to tell us that he has to wear a specially made mask over his face for the treatment and he can't see a thing while lying there. I said that would freak me out but he said his old Army discipline kicks in and he appears to handle it really well. Again, the attitude of my fellow cancer sufferers never sieze to amaze me. "You just have to accept it as needs must." he said. Must have been a tough man in his day?

My fishmonger friend tells me when diagnosed he was told that it was terminal! Wow, shock. I didn't know what to say. But he did say that the treatment had worked and was off the 'terminal' list. he said it was a complete shock to the family and began thinking about how to divvy up his money etc. Jokingly he said that he put all his money into his wife account when told but when they said he was no longer terminal. Now he can't get his money back? Ha ha.

We arrive at the entrance again and I walk with my artist friend to the same treatment room and I said I was in the process of buying his book. His walking was poor but did say there was an improvement and hopes to get back to some form of normality soon.

Across from us was a man who was in the hospital bed and waiting on treatment. He looked poorly and very thin. I looked across and nodded. He winked back. You could tell he was not in good condition medically with all the tubes and lines. He just fell asleep instantly and only awoke when the nurse took him through. Once again, he was joking away with the nurse as if it was a normal routine day. I looked at my friend and said " The people and attitude is exemplary here and something I have never experienced in my life, ever." He told me that after all his experience in the army he had learned how to control things like that emotionally as life will take us eventually no matter the circumstances. Out comes the nurse from her wee cubby hole and off he goes . I drink my water and eventually it is my turn. In we go, down with the pants and under the mixer we go. Do your job Mr Radiation.

Nurse tells me that I should I can ride my bike as long as I do not ride it twenty four hours before a PSA blood test. Apparently the cycling stimulates the prostate and changes the accuracy. Wish it would stimulate something?

Anyway, we all meet at the cafe and back into the cancer bus and off home. We tell our driver to make sure he takes the right turning after the tunnel or round and round we go again. Amazing how dark it is at this time.

We start our conversation around scans. I said that I hated the MRI scan as it was very claustrophobic. My fishmonger friend said he did not have that and had CT Scans mainly. I said they slide you into this small tunnel with hardly any room to move and I was in there for forty five minutes. They did provide a panic button and some music but it didn't really help. They could place bets on how long you last in the tunnel and make a fortune. The nurse actually thought I would press the panic button within five minutes but I did not use it at all. Thanks to my dance music CD.

At this point my artist front up front said as part of his training with the legion he was placed in a submarine torpedo tube and fired out. Real James Bond stuff. He did it only once. He said he had to wear breathing apparatus and the tube was tight. They flooded the tube with water and the hatch opened and was fired out into the deep blue sea. How could we top that story?

Our driver took the Greenock road to Irvine and we arrived on time to meet my wee granddaughter. Great to see her. Then we tucked into a cheesy omelette.

Week one over. Back on Monday

Groundhog Blog 5- Monday 11th December

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Woke up and had my porridge. I had a very poor night tossing and turning and spending most of my time downstairs watching any old TV programmes I could manage. Trying hard to bore myself to sleep with subtitled movies. It looks like the day may drift along. Received my phone call and it is a new driver to take us to the Beatson. My fishmonger friend was there and we heard that our artist friend had fell yesterday and will not be travelling with us. Probably the quietest run so far. Wee lady from Kilmarnock joined us and she has been travelling to the Beats for a few months. Again with that defiant attitude I have become acquainted with.

In I went to drink my waters and receive my radiotherapy. Then it was back to our driver and off home.

Can't wait to get home as I am feeling very tired. Not looking froward to my sleep tonight as I feel this horrible tiredness and hot flushes coming on again.

we shall see.

Groundhog Blog 6- Tuesday 12th December

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Woke up and had some porridge another freezer of a day. I slept better last night and I do think the magic brew my wife makes with the fancy tea bags have helped. Only thing is they smell a bit like foosty socks. But, if it works, so be it. Years ago I remember working for the Gas Board and whenever we were laying a pipe on the roads, the contract guys, who consisted mainly of Irish lads, used to brew up the thickest, blackest tea you could imagine. It would be served up in a 'billy can'. A metal tin with two holes on each side with wire weaved through each hole to form a handle. The tin was always tinted black at the bottom due to hanging the can over a calor gas stove and you had to lift it off with a home made metal hook specifically made for the job. You had to wait a few minutes for the tip of the can to cool or your lips would have literally stick to it.

I looked out the back door as my wife left washing on the line and it looks like a frosted sculpture. You could enter that for the Turner Prize anythings art nowadays. Walked for around a mile came back and tidied the kitchen. My wife made some terrific lentil soup last night and it fair puts the hairs on your chest.

Received my phone call last night and I have a new driver today. He had a voice like Bill McLaren, you remember the old Scottish rugby commentator. When he arrived at my door there a bit of the Brian Blessed about him to.

Anyway, I shared the drive up with a lady who was going to The Beatson for the first time. We again chatted about the great service they offered and how accommodating the staff were and we advised, old hats that we were, to make her way to the treatment area as soon as she arrived and book in right away. She once worked in hospitals and had a good insight into medical problems and how hospitals operate. She sounded a bit like 'Effy' from Still Game but in a nice way, not gossipy. Not sure as yet what her cancer was.

We were talking about how the drivers gave up their personal time to provide this service and what they did while waiting for us. Our driver said they had a parking area not far from the entrance and they would sit in the cafe area and wait for us no matter how long it takes. Incredible people. My hats off to those volunteers.

Before we knew it, we had arrived at The Beatson. The entrance is almost like a busy airport. Cars, vans and mini buses drawing up. People in. People out.

The cafe area is always bustling and if you feel like a brew, I would certainly recommend a piece of millionaire shortbread to. Addictive!

Anyway. Today is a wee bit different. As well as receiving radiotherapy, its assessment day. The weekly review of your treatment. Off I went to the usual waiting room which was really quiet for a change. No familiar faces. Then for the first time, I noticed a small 'chocolate bell' on the table. I asked later what it was. Apparently if you ring it the staff bring you chocolates? Not tried it yet.

The nurse instructed me to start drinking my three cups of water and after a short nap. Yes, I did doze off. I was called in to receive my treatment. Once finished my turn under the blender, the nurse said someone would take me to my assessment room. A cheery wee auxiliary (she reminded me a bit like Barbara Windsor) guided me along through the labyrinth of corridors to my next destination.

I waited for around twenty minutes but while there I overheard a two ladies chatting about an incident one of them had recently experienced. The tall, blonde haired lady said she was met a so called friend in the street who came up to her and said "How long have you got?" Meaning, how long have you to live. Unbelievable. I have written a blog about how people find it difficult to communicate with cancer sufferers but I had never heard of that line before. She was obviously devastated but nothing surprised her anymore. Some people. Off she went for her treatment and the room fell silent apart from the odd porter drifting by wheeling a patient on one of those unsteerable chairs on wheels. have you ever tried it? I think those of us in that waiting room area felt stunned by hearing this comment even though we were not part of the conversation.I think she deliberately spoke out loud to attract our attention for a wee bit of drama.

This older chap on a wheelchair was waiting on his porter. When he arrived, they were talking about the weather. The porter said it was the coldest for a while and the guy on the chair said "Yes its to warm up by tomorrow, minus 7 today, but it will be minus 5 tomorrow." Off they went steering zig zaggedly on their merry way.

My name was called and in I went to meet my specialist nurse for a review of my treatment so far. We chatted through routine questions. I said that I had experienced a wee bit of pain in my penis this morning for the first time. She asked for a urine test and said she would look at my insides via the ultrasound machine. I did my pee. She popped off to check. Came back and said everything was all clear and my waters were good. Then she put the cold gel on my stomach and waved the magic ultrasound gun over my stomach and said there were no problems. Thank God. As I thought I heard a faint heartbeat in the background and I was about to announce a new delivery in nine months. Good. Nothing to worry about there. I did say that this this puffiness had appeared above my private area. This could be due to my training being reduced dramatically since being diagnosed and a small area of fat was starting to gather. Just need to keep an eye on it. Also, I have to refrain from cycling until a few weeks after my treatment. Apparently the saddle stimulates and irritates the prostate area and increase any inflammation. So, my trusted fatbike will have to wait. Disappointed to say the least. But its only for a wee while and given what I have seen at The Beatson so far, its no big deal.There are others in a worse condition than me and may not have the opportunity to do anything as physical.

Review finished. Another in a weeks time. Back to the cafe where the driver was waiting with a new passenger. Our new passenger had been in the Beatson for a couple of weeks and is on her way home. She tells me she is returning tomorrow but it will be her final day and she will have the privilege of ringing the bell.

Lovely lady. Who has come through a lot but once again she had that wonderful humility I have come to admire in Beatson patients. My phone rang and it was a video of my wee four month old granddaughter. I showed the ladies the video " aw, a wee cutey " and then for some reason we chatted about the wonders or not so wonders of the smartphone. I said I could not live without it as it speeds up communication for my business and family links. For my travelling friends it was phone calls and the odd text."what did we do when we had no smartphones?" was the cry. I said "two tin cans, a wire and some smoke signals."

Before we knew it we were in Irvine. Another day over and look forward to some home made soup with my wife.

Back again tomorrow.

Groundhog Blog 7- Wednesday 13th December

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Woke up and had my porridge. My sleep was disrupted by running to the toilet at least 4-5 times during the night. It felt an like an infection had hit my bladder and once I had released my waste I felt like my tubes were burning and trying to squeeze out more but there was nothing left. Unconfortable to say the least.

Today I have no ACS driver as my daughter wants to take me up today. Be nice to chat with her and get the old team together again as she recently gave birth to my wonderful wee granddaughter who has been a real tonic to the family. My daughter obviously worries about what I am going through and I think she wants to see what the routine of radiotherapy is like plus it gives us a chance to catch up.

Family are so important when going through such a medical procedure. Again, that word 'cancer' has that instant impact on their thoughts and we tend to forget that they worry more than you as it is an unknown and scary aspect for people to take in. I know by listening to other cancer sufferers that this appears to be their main concern. How their loved ones worry and how they try to eleviate that stress by playing down what they are going through. I have noticed that the medical staff have that same approach. They have a very caring demeanour in the Beatson and have created a wonderful atmosphere within the building that makes your visits a bit less stressful. I think my daughter wanted to see this first hand and she noticed that when we arrived it was almost like visiting an airport. Busy car parks. Busy entrance. Busy cafe. Busy reception. Busy people and busy medical areas weaving throughout the building. If you didn't know any better you would never realise that almost all of the people within that building have a cancer related link. Well done Beatson.

We sat together at the waiting room and chatted about our wee baby. She is a wee treat and my wife and I have looked after her on many an occasion and to see her wee smile and bright eyes takes my mind away from cancer worries.

My daughter and I have spent many a great Ibiza break to take in the dance scene together and we have so much in common. This was all before baby arrived. I have always had a strong bond with her and reminded her when she was growing up I spent a lot of time taking her places. Something we have continued even to this day.

I have always been a keep fit enthusiast and i remember when she was about three I had this racer bike and fitted one of those baby seats at the back of the saddle. One day we were cycling through a country park. It was very warm and we had been cycling for a couple of hours. I felt this thump on my backside. I put my hand behind and it was my daughters head leaning against my bahooky. She had fell asleep wee soul. I tried hard to keep the bike on a slow but straight road so as not to disturb her and when I arrived home, my wife was in fits of laughter as I was too scared to move and disturb her sleep.

Nurse pops out of her wee corner office and tells me to take my water. I explain to my daughter that this is routine and it has something to do with keeping the bladder away from the radiotherapy area. We chat to this man who was on his wheelchair. He had been taken away with a doctor to discuss a piece of breathing equipment as he had lung cancer and my nurse had called out his name. He had just left but he came back and I said he had better speak to the nurse. He was due his treatment also and nearly missed his slot. He tells me he came from Ayrshire and lived in Stewarton but moved to Clackmannan. He travels by ambulance daily as I do not think they have a similar charity like ACS that offers free transportation. When his radiotherapy was over the porter came for him and he whizzed past us shouting out "all the best" to us with a huge smile. Good on you big man.

Off I went into the big room where the huge coffee making lookalike machine was waiting to zap my cancer. I noticed that they always have a student nurse/radiographer as part of the team and this time the student had the opportunity to speak with me, make me comfortable on the slab, knees up, head back and feet firmly in the running blocks and we are ready for the off. Its amazing how detailed and accurate they have to be when positioning my body. 82.7 and so on making sure the machine is set to pin point accuracy aiming the lasers at the wee tattoos marked on my abdomen and hips.

In I go backwards and the big coffee maker is manoeuvred above my abdomen and the nurses vacate. The alarm goes off and the buzzing of the machine kicks off and takes a tour around my middle area.Five minutes, roughly, and its over. No pain. "See you tomorrow" they say.Groundhog day.

My daughter said "Is that it?" Yep. all pretty routine. Time for a coffee before we hit the mad traffic outside.

Going home that evening was a nightmare. My daughter was weaving in and out of crazy bumper to bumper traffic. We had a few near misses. I had never seen it like this before and you really need to have eyes at the back of your head. Drivers nowadays are extremely selfish and never give way when you have taken the wrong lane. Even with a 'baby on board' sign on our car, they still jostled for position. Madness. Driving used to be a privilege and fun but now it is more stressful than going into the Beatson. Well done to my daughter for inching her way through that madness. What has happened to civility. Have we just enclosed ourselves inside our wee metal containers and forgot there is a human race outside? I watched a car up frontdziving slowly towards a traffic stop and a lady with a pram halfway through crossing and he went mad at the lady for holding him up. What? Its a lady with a pram with a wee precious cargo on board. Are you nuts? Give way you idiot. Appears nothing is sacred anymore.

We got home eventually to be greeted by my wife and granddaughter. What a sight to behold. Two smiling faces welcoming us back.

Thanks to my lovely daughter for taking me up today. Made a difference.

Groundhog Blog 8- Thursday 14th December

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Woke up really early this morning and had a really poor sleep again last night. I think it is the travelling and the feeling of needing the toilet through the night. I have tried sleep tea, meditation via Youtube and wave music but for some reason they don't work. My wife thinks that I have such an active mind it is difficult for me to control. I have one of those creative imaginations that never stops. I could be drifting into a sleep and then, ping, an idea pops into my head and I have to jot it down or do it.

I am co-owner of the Ayrshire Film Company and we are constantly working on new creative projects. Over the past three years I set up a project called Fitba Shorts, a new approach to promoting the junior football game and it has been very successful and takes up a lot of my time especially weekends obviously. This year, we have partnered with Auchenharvie Academy and our volunteers consist of mainly pupils from the school plus a couple of outsiders. I meet with the group every Thursday morning and we have a production team meeting and film the review show for the programme. The show has proven very popular and we are negotiations with the school and other parties to set up a production company in the school with AFC mentoring and providing tuition. A lot happening just when I am going through this radiotherapy. A labour of love for me. We are currently scripting a half season Christmas show and going to film next week. So, a lot of work coming up. Keeps me occupied but my mind can't slow down.

Anyway, I am preparing to meet the crew at the school this morning and start the dress rehearsal. Should be fun.

Received my phone call last night and its bill mclc....ooops our Bill McLaren sounding driver. There he is on the dot to pick me up and its my fishmonger friend this morning. On the way up we funnily enough we chat about the difference between football and rugby behaviour. I recently filmed a rugby match and being an ex footballer realised that the rugby players never argue with the referee. Our driver says there are a lot of lessons to be learned from rugby. "I mean, rugby players take on tougher tackles than footballers and yet never moan, whereas footballers can be shoved slightly and go down as if a sniper had shot them." My fishmonger friend says they are spoilt and paid absolute fortunes for in some cases doing very little. Most would agree.

We arrive at the airport reception, book in our flights and off to the treatment room. For a change, the room is empty and I am sitting alone. The nurse instructs me to take my water and then into the main room where I prepare for take off on the big blender.

Another proton hugging job done and its back home again.

Groundhog Blog 9- Friday 15th December

9 Woke up and had my porridge and out for a short walk to the shops. Had a decent sleep but once agin I was up a couple of times for the toilet. I think this radiotherapy is kicking in now as they did say I may experience frequent toilet visits. I think it has to do with the constant radiotherapy bombing of my wee prostate.Poor wee thing, must wonder what I am ding to it now its showing disapproval. Don't worry my little walnut friend, almost halfway there and hopefully we shall rid you of that horrible cancer leeching around your organ.

Received my phone call last night and it is our lady photographer friend who is driving and my fisherman friend as fellow traveller. No artist friend as they tell me he has been admitted to hospital and is still there. We hope he is keeping well as we miss his companionship.

I have been delegated to the front as navigator to guide us through the winding roads of Dalry. Our driver tells us she has won a major photographic competition for a major airline. Nice one. It is the picture of a plane in the air and low adnd behold as we pass Glasgow Airport, there is the very plane taking off. Coincidence?

We arrive at the Beatson's platform one i.e. the reception. Make our way to our respective treatment rooms. My area was empty again and the nurse called me out to take my water and off we go trotting into the landing bay, kegs down and let the mixer do its thing. One thing about this wee unit, the nurses are very friendly and efficient. They have my treatment off to pat and make it feel very routine. Treatment over, its back to the take off bay and we head home again.

Our fisherman friend tells us the unlikely story about the time he was told he had cancer. I think he tells us these stories to keep our spirits up When he was told by the doctors that he had cancer they actually said he was terminal. Now devastating news enough for any human being but after he decided to donate all his saving to his wife. He started chemotherapy and after the first few treatments he was taken off the terminal list as the treatment was working. Obviously he was delighted at this but remembered that he had given all his savings to his wife's, how does he get that back? Has she spent it? Lesson learned for anyone out there. If you are told you have cancer and/or if you are terminal don't jump the gun. Wait until you receive some treatment as this lot at the Beatson can sometimes work miracles.

We all have a good laugh at this and start the relationship jokes. Great way to end the week.

We arrive back at my landing bay and bid good weekends. See you Monday.

Groundhog Blog 10- Monday 18th December

Woke up this morning had no porridge I have been feeling a bit unwell. My outback area feels like it is inflamed and I have been to the toilet more frequently over the weekend.Feel very tired as well. Due to lack of sleep and this general unwell feeling.Tried paracetamol and it calms things down a bit.Todays driver is our lady photographer friend again and she called last night to let me know she will pick me up with my old fisherman friend. Good. Its a nice wee crew and the patter takes our minds off things.

We hear that our artist friend is still in hospital and we worry for him. We start to tell the story about us not liking the MRI and how he told us about his time being fired out the torpedo tube of a sub. Top that he said.

Imagine how a man who came through so much and experienced so much in life is hit hard by brain tumours. A once very fit man now fighting a different fight from his time in the Foreign Legion. The emotional effect can be catastrophic. This is an area close to my heart. The NHS provide a great physical service in fighting cancer but I still fell the psychological side needs a lot more work. There are services out there for people but trying to educate people to discuss their emotional problems can prove difficult. A topic we embrace on our way to the Beatson.

Our driver friend had cancer at one stage and this was a facial cancer. The impact this had on her was also catastrophic and amounted to many changes in both her physical and personal life. You would never know there was surgery on her face.The wonders of modern technology.

Wearrive at terminal one and shuffle off to our treatment rooms. My God. I couldn't believe how busy it was and there were a number new faces. I noticed one man had to drink his water so a fellow prostate sufferer. Tried to say hello but he was obviously a bit occupied and grumped about taking the water. Thats the easy bit my friend!

Anyway, this must have been a busy day for the staff and I was way past my usual time so they transferred me to another station similar to my normal room where i was told that my review would be straight after treatment.

Met my review nurse, very pleasant and cheery and we chatted about my frequent visits to the bog. In general she felt everything was going well and I said that once this radiotherapy is overI hope to be rid of the cancer.

It was back to the reception where my fiends had been waiting patiently and off to take on the rush hour traffic.

My fisherman friend was saying he was feeling tired as well and we agreed that the radiotherapy and the traveling was now taking its toll.

Our driver received a phone call regarding her mother who was being taken into hospital. As if she didn't have enough.

We arrive back at Irvine and I wished her all the best for her mum. My how things can turn for us. If its not one thing its another but again she has that wonderful resilience and attitude that got her through her own cancer plight and applies it to her current situation.

10 Groundhog Blog 11- Tuesday 19th December

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Woke up and had my porridge and still feeling that burning sensation in the outback and going to the toilet at least five time through the night. Hellish feeling. I have never been one for pills but this time my wife insisted I take some paracetamol and caprofen. After an hour or so I felt great. This is the day I will drive up myself with my wife. I feel she has been so worried about my time at The Beatson I felt that if she came along it would help ease her mind.

I think I mentioned earlier about how the carers tend to worry more than us sufferers. It can't be easy watching you close loved one go through the trauma of you having to fight cancer. I tried to explain that the travelling and treatment are pretty routine and what I really need to watch out for are the special effects that kick in from my body. So, off we went.

She was pretty quiet on the drive up to the Beatson. Not like her.

We did start to chat about Christmas and how we are going to celebrate it this year. We normally have a good old time especially when my brother in law comes up and we have our meal and party until we drop. Not this year. Due to the constant travelling back and forth, the impact the treatment is having and the fact I continue the treatment on Boxing day has made us alter our plans. No way am I travelling with a hangover and no way am I going to harm the treatment I have endured so far. So, we have planned to have our 'late' Christmas party in January.

A good friend of mine gave me a bottle of whisky last year when I was first diagnosed, a really good single malt may I add, and said "Do not open until the day you are given the all clear." That precious bottle has pride and place in my kitchen cabinet ready to be popped when this cancer gets the heave ho.

We arrive at the Beatson and we have to leave our car at the hotel car park next to the Beatson. Its only a couple of quid and worth it.

The ticket guy is probably one of the cheeriest guys I have ever met. There he is in this little, cold time capsule with barely enough room to spin a cat giving out tickets as if it was the best job in the world. It probably is to him and not well paid either. I know people who are well paid in good jobs and are as miserable as sin. Take a look at this 'miserables' and learn. Thanks mate, tip coming you way when I return.

The front of the Beatson is the usual hustle and bustle and I make my way to the 'drinks' parlour and down my three cups full of water and await my turn. Busier than usual today and they take me to another treatment area for my treatment. Wow. I did not realise there were so many radiotherapy rooms in this building. Its a rabbit warren of treatment rooms and testimony to the huge amount of work required to fight cancer.

Once completed, I make my way back with my wife to pick up the car. Paid the cheery attendant and made our way home.

I hope that helped my wife understand the routine of the treatment. The plight of the carer is extremely important to any person going through cancer treatment and is vital to the recovery. Hats off to all you carers.

Groundhog Blog 12- Wednesday 20th December

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Woke up, had my porridge and slept on a bit more this morning. I think the effects of the treatment are kicking in now. I have this uncomfortable feeling in my outback. It feels like I have been punched just below my spine and there is an aching feeling. My toilet habit has changed as well. When doing a poo it is very soft and comes out in squirts. I am needing the toilet more frequently and it is very embarrassing.The pee area is fine. Not sure if I could manage to travel with the cancer bus today? If I have the runs I am in trouble. Anyway, I decide to go as it appears to have settled a bit.

Not the best day travelling and I was pretty quiet.

Looks like the treatment may now be having its effect and I am worried that it will spoil Christmas.

Groundhog Blog 13- Thursday 21st December

Woke up and had my porridge and still feel that uncomfortable feeling in the outback area. Had more up and downs to the toilet and bottom area feeling red. New driver called last night and picking me up earlier today. Eating habits are changing. I normally take brown bread and fibre related food but I am cutting back. Been eating scrambled egg for the past two days as it appears to settle my stomach better and cuts out the heartburn I have mainly when lying in bed. Going to bed earlier now although not sleeping just enjoying the lying on a comfortable mattress. I have my trusty laptop and watch TV or a documentary on youtube.

I notice my wife coming to bed later now. I think she is getting worried about this diaorea.

My driver picks me up with my fishmonger friend. The driver is a character. He asks me to ride shotgun with him as he does not know the area very well. We chatted about what he did before and he was an ambulance driver. He lost his wife to cancer and has been volunteering full time for a few years now. I ask him about his experiences as a driver and he tells me the worst experience as an ambulance driver was the time of the Lockerbie tragedy. He said the memories of that day have haunted him for years. He is also a staunch Rangers supporter. Today he had a jumper on that lit up like a Christmas tree.

When we arrived at the Beatson, he stuck on a tall hat that lit up as well. There he was from waist up twinkling away trying to get people into the festive spirit.

Off we went to receive our treatments and met back in the cafe. Here we had to pick up a lady who had been in hospital for a few weeks and going home. She was very quiet and appeared a bit lost. Took us a wee while to figure out where she came from and how to get her there.

It was a longer than usual ride home as my backside was playing up and the conversation was not to the usual crak.

13 Groundhog Blog 14- Friday 22nd December

woke up and had my porridge. Had another unpleasant night. Today is our lady driver. She says this will be her last afternoon driving as her mother is very ill at present. My fisherman friend and lady from Prestwick are in the car and our driver is asking how I feel. I said my butt feels like its been run through a hedge. She said she had a surprise for me. She put a CD in and on came Johnny Cash singing Ring of Fire. We were all in stitches and took it in great jest. She knows the symptoms very well and did warn me that it could take a wee while to recover.

Arrived at the Beatson after having a great laugh at both my fisherman friends life with four marraiges and my burning butt.

In we go for our treatment and meet back at the cafe.

On the way back our lady friend said she knew our fishmonger friends second wife and they met in the hospital today. He said it was very uncomfortable and di not know where to turn as they don't speak. "How many bloody wives have you got?" she said. I think she thinks he is a bt of a ladies man as she comes across prudish a bit like Ina from Still Game. I think my fishmonger friend was winding her up with his tales of four wives and how he fell out with them and moved on to meet another.

I was feeling pretty tired and found it hard to join in with the chat. They must have thought I was a bit anti social but I was not. Just the way I was felling. I definitely think the radiotherapy was starting to kick in and have an effect on me.

It was early to bed that night. Tired and felt like going to the toilet all the time. It felt like the holiday runs. All night this continued and the worry came in when the blood appeared.

I will need to keep an eye on this and with Christmas just round the corner how was I going to cope?

14 Groundhog Blog 15- Tuesday 26th December

woke up and felt like porridge (literally) but did not have any. I had a very bad weekend and Christmas experience. I spent Saturday afternoon with my daughter and granddaughter in Ayr. I love being with my kids but I felt very tired, sweaty and needing the toilet. The train ride up was like travelling through the tropics, you know, like Humphrey Bogart dragging that African Queen through the jungle. We found some presents and my wee granddaughter and I took a walk around the toys and it took my mind off it all for an hour or so. My daughter was obviously worried about me and we decided to get the next train home. When we got home, my wife could tell by my tired face that I was suffering. Straight to the toilet and it was like this for the rest of the evening into Christmas Eve. My backside was by this time in flames and the blood began to drip from my outback. Feeling like doing the toilet and not being able to do something is a bit like chinese torture. You sit there ready to go and its a false alarm and with all the pushing you do to relieve yourself you think you would deserve a decent poo but out comes this tiny, tiny squirt. Surely I deserve better than that? Hellish feeling. Going to the toilet without the proper reward can be demoralising. By this time my backend felt as if it had gone ten rounds with Tyson.

My driver called last night and picked me up as usual. I was very quiet on the way up and explained to the guys about my overnight experience. I decided to give it one more night before telling the nurse. Maybe it was a bug?

So glad the get home.

15 Groundhog Blog 16- Tuesday 26th December

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Woke up and tried some porridge and another difficult evening although not as bad as Tuesday. Decided to drive up with my wife and told my driver that I am going to speak with the nurse. When we arrived at the Beatson, I said to the nurse what was happening and she asked if I had a review this week. I said no. They felt I should have and recommended that we organise something tomorrow. So in I went, had my water and radiotherapy and headed back home hoping this horrible feeling would go..

Groundhog Blog 17- Wednesday 27th December

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Woke up a bit later as I was exhausted from the shenanigans of running to the toilet and this constant bleeding. Overtime I wiped there was blood and at one stage when I stood up there were drips on the floor. Really worrying. Has something happened during radiotherapy? Have they damaged something? Is it a bug? Piles? What?

My driver called last night and I explained that I have this problem and it would be embarrassing having to stop for me as my bowels were proving hard to control. Typically, he said not to worry as he has dealt with worse and just to say.

When we I arrived this time it was pretty quiet being the middle of the Christmas holidays. I spoke to the nurse about the bleeding and she immediately felt that it should be seen to. I had my water and treatment and was taken along to another treatment room where I met a very nice nurse who asked me the routine questions and had a good gander up my bahooky. She could not see anything apart from my bottom showing a bit of wear and tear and recommended Zerobase cream to help with the inflamed area. She then felt that I should see a doctor. The doctor popped in to see me. jesus, she looked like a sixth year at school and pretty. Slight distractions aside, she asked if she could peak up the yonder? She could not see anything (neither could I) but recommended I provide a poo sample and bring it back tomorrow. She did say to keep taking paracetamol and ibrufin as that would help. No real conclusions apart from thinking it may be the radiotherapy and they would tell the consultant who may recommend we stop the radiation as I am nearing the end.

The nurse provided me with the a poo sampler and cream.

Hopefully this would work?

Groundhog Blog 18- Thursday 28th December

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Woke up and had my porridge. Not looking forward to my treatment. Been feeling squeamish all week and the feeling is not subsiding. The guys in cancer bus are very sympathetic and my fisherman friend was worried. We arrived at the Beatson with me feeling poorly. Drank my water and had my treatment and handed in my poo sample to the nurse. Felt very weak and fed up with the constant toilet patrol. The guys in the cancer bus were trying hard to keep my spirits up and we had a couple of laughs going back. Hopefully I can feel better for tomorrow coming in the New Year break.

Groundhog Blog 19- Friday 29th December

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Woke up and had my porridge and had a better sleep last night. That horrible unwell feeling and tortured bum appears to be easing up, thank the Lord. It has been one hellish week as you probably notice with the lack of words and humour in my log. Being picked up early as possible today so we can get back home quickly for the weekend holidays. On the way up it was wee Isa lookalike and myself. We chatted about how our fisherman friend was going in early today and wee Isa spoke to him yesterday about his four wives and his escapades in the past. I am pretty sure he is winding her up.

We arrive to a fairly sparse Beatson and I drink my water and in for my treatment. The nurses did not come back to me regarding my poo sample so I took it that there was nothing wrong. I definitely felt a bit better today although given the week I have had I wasn't counting my chickens.

On the way back our driver puts on a Cd of Foster & Allen. My God, are they still alive? They sing with that Irish twang and sound so corny. There rendition of Green Green Grass was excruciating but for some reason it provided us with a laugh and cheered us up.

We arrive home and I wish the guys all the best for next year. Hopefully my butt will be in better condition to take on the New Year.

Groundhog Blog 20- Tuesday 2nd January 2018

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Happy New Year 2018. I hope this year is a lot better than 2017. To describe 2017 in one word...difficult.

Had a nice wee night with my wife in a local bar and brought in the bells in our home. No kick back today like last week when I had to endure the achand we had dinner with the family. Still feeling tired but not as bad with the frequent toilet visits.Decided to travel with my wife together although I will miss my cancer bus pals. I will make a point to keep in touch as we have come through a lot together. Driving up this time did take my mind off things. The Beatson car park was unusually sparse and we found a parking spot next to the hospital. It was bitterly cold. The reception area was very quiet but given the time of year most patients will be let home enjoying a break from treatment. In for the water and my second last visit to the food processor. I was asking what happens when the the machine rotates around the midriff of my body? The radiographer said that when it is rotating the round part of the machine is firing protons at the affected area. They measure you up precisely as you can hear them calling out numbers obviously related to where they want the beam to target. A siren goes off and they vacate and move to a room with a computer screen that shows an x-ray of my pelvic area where you can see three small green lines. The lines are the golden seeds they planted weeks ago and they use this to target the cancer. Very clever. They say it is to reduce the side effects of the radiotherapy as the radiation passes through your body and can hit other organs such as the bowel.

Treatment over for the day and back to my wife and head home.

Tomorrow is my last day of treatment, thank the Lord. I remember they suggested the treatment could have been eight weeks! Not sure if I could have coped with that length of time but, I met a lady recently who told me she was attending for chemotherapy every Tuesday and Thursday for a year? A year? Again, it never seizes to amaze me the resilience of people when faced with this life or death illness. I suppose when you I think about it, it is better to sacrifice that year knowing you may have the chance of living longer.

Groundhog Blog 21- Wednesday 3rd January 2018

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My last day of radiotherapy treatment at the Beatson.. Phew! Time to ring that bell. Tradition has it that once you have

completed your treatment you ring a bell in your treatment area. Looking forward to giving that bell a good old fashioned ring!!!

Been a long few weeks plenty of ups and downs especially over the festive period. Woke up and had my porridge. Julie going up with me today.

Glad to say that the bleeding has eased up but I am still going to the toilet frequently and my sleep is continually disturbed.

On our drive up my wife was very quiet and I think she was contemplating our last trip to Glasgow for radiotherapy.

As usual we reached the parking area in front of the Gartnaval Hospital and fortunately found a space. Its a cold, wet day and I was hoping to meet some of my travelling partners from Ayrshire Cancer Support in the cafe. Unfortunately there were none but did bump into one of the drivers and I thanked him for all the time and effort the volunteers provide taking us to and from the Beatson.

Off I went to drink my final three cups of water and treatment. The radiographers were pleased to announce it was my last and one of the ladies told me she had just graduated and went to Ibiza to celebrate. I asked which clubs she went to? She said it was the quiet area and never been to a club at all? I said that was alien to me as all I have ever done when there was rave and then let her see my Ibiza Veteran tattoo. She says she may go back and try the club scene.

Treatment over. Time to ring that bell. There were others waiting for their treatment and one man whom was halfway through and looked a bit worried asked if I had any side effects and I did say about my bleeding but stressed that it all depends on the person. He was quite tired and shocked when I told him this. I wished him all the best and told him that it won't be long until he rings that bell.

I spent a bit of time looking for my cancer bus pals but none them were there. I will try to contact them soon. Off we went back home and the relief I felt was unbelievable. I felt like a weight had been taken off my shoulders and also a bit strange knowing that I would not be back (for good I hope.) Still. I miss the new friends I had made.

There is definitely a unique atmosphere created within the Beatson and within the Cancer bus crew. Something I will miss. Strange saying that but I do genuinely mean it. Personally, my whole experience travelling to and from the Beatson has had a lasting impact on myself and for the positive. I entered a world most 'normal' people rarely enter (and fear to enter) and came out the other end with a renewed faith in the human race. Not a religious 'born again' feeling but a reassurance that there are still good people willing to help and support you through a very difficult period in life and long may that continue.

In this cynical, media hyped world full of negative news and views on so called 'community' social media sites there is a glimmer of hope that the basic human spirit of face to face communication is still alive and untouched by the digital world.

All I need now is for the doctor to tell me that the cancer has been zapped from my outback and I can begin a new chapter in my life.

Groundhog Blog 22- Monday 19th Febuary 2018

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Its been over five weeks since my last day of radiotherapy and we are coming up to my consultation with the oncologist to see if the treatment has worked.Today the local GP nurse will take my PSA bloods to be sent to the oncologist for my all important consultation with him next Monday. Fingers crossed the PSA levels have dropped and we are on our way to beating off this cancer.

THE BIG DAY- MONDAY 26TH FEBRUARY

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Today is D Day for me. Today I find out if the months of treatment has had an effect on my cancer. I meet the oncologist who will present the findings of my treatment and I have not slept for three nights worrying about this day. My wife and I are on tender hooks and I just hope that we have good news. The BBC have been filming documentaries called The Beatson Stories and have been following my story for their documentary on Prostate Cancer. Weird having a camera film this important and emotional step in my treatment. So in I go to meet the doctor. Sitting there face to face with him is almost like waiting for a stay of execution. He looks up and reads out my PSA. 0.2. What? Did he say 0.2? Thats a massive drop and normal again. I could have lept over and hugged the guy but being a typical male, tried to hold it in. I looked at my wife and the relief on her face was unbelievable. Our eyes were welling up together. We chatted about the radiotherapy and its effects and how the hormone treatment helped with this also. He did say that they will keep me on hormone therapy for another three years but after what I have been through I can put up with that. He asked if I would go on an aspirin trial and I agreed to this. So another meeting on Friday and we start this test. I shook hands with him and gave a short but happy statement to the camera. My wife and I sat in the car and cried. I kept thinking how lucky I was but I also kept thinking of those who are not so fortunate. That early PSA test was a God send and something I will be encouraging others to do in the future. So, off we went to a local garden centre where I ate the biggest coffee cake ever in a world record time. I don't even think I tasted it. We just sat there looking into each others eyes and did not know what to say. I felt like I had been blown throw a tunnel at high speed and whooshed right out the other end with no parachute and still flying.

There are no guarantees with cancer but to know that all the months of treatment and worry have paid off.....what next?

For the time being I am just going to enjoy it and begin to plan for the future. Having cancer and hopefully beat it has completely changed my whole perspective in life. Where it takes me now is anyone's guess. But I won't be holding back.

The Aftermath - Jan 8th 2017

Almost a week after the treatment period I do feel a bit better. Still taking the paracetamol and ibupfren. This helps with the ache I have in my lower back area. Still have bouts of diaorea although not as frequent but I do notice that my stools are becoming a bit more 'normal'. The bleeding appears to have subsided to. The nurse did say that rest is crucial at this stage and to remember that my bowel area has received a lot of radiation and not to push it for a few weeks. She said "When tired don't fight it, rest." So for the next few weeks I will start short walks and build on this to test my energy levels. Today I am very tired as I sit here in a Costa typing this. I think I will head home to bed.

For those who may be about to be tested for cancer or about to undergo treatment, here are my symptoms since being diagnosed in 2016:

January 2017: Started hormone therapy.....

the first few days of receiving this monthly injection on my stomach, made me feel generally unwell, tired and bloated and as the months progressed, I have very bad hot flushes and they appear frequently during the day and in bed.

June 2017: the treatment was not working. PSA levels and testosterone levels were still high. So they added a daily tablet to be taken on top of the injection. This increased the above symptoms and generally made me feel fatigued.

This continued until September/October 2017 and the levels dropped enough to start radiotherapy.

Radiotherapy December 2017...

Feeling nauseous, tired, constant backache, rectal bleeding, wind and bloating.

Still receiving monthly hormone injections possibly for three years.

Psychologically:

currently in a better place than last year but not out of the woods as yet. The counselling received by Ayrshire Cancer Support has been brilliant.Being able to talk to an independent has helped me through some tough periods. At present I am waiting to see if the treatment has worked. Back to the waiting game. There was a dark cloud over the past year but the cloud is slowly turning into light overcast. Hopefully bit of sunshine will peak through soon.

By the way, no cycling for a few weeks as the saddle can irritate and stimulate the prostate.