This extremely unoriginal title just popped up, and I am a bit of a believer in going with these things. It is a beautiful day, actually; maximum 30, but only about 26-27 outside, and very dry, so it feels mild. I went outside and did some watering earlier, including some hand watering for the hoya bush and a rather sick looking azalea in a tub that I have been nursing along for months. I gave this some compost and this has made it look healthier; it now has little green shoots along the branches. It needs a feed, which it is about to receive when I get to it.
Otherwise I have been making phone calls and appointments and ripping some discs to my MP3 player; all very uneventful. I have to be out this afternoon, and because it is going to be hot, I hit on the idea of going to see a movie. The only one with a suitable time is Loving Vincent, so I am going to see that. It should be nice to look at at worst. Had a fairly average night, but I am quite used to it by now. There is a meeting of the Prostate Cancer Support Group tomorrow morning in Box Hill, at which I should get some information about new treatments, particularly those involving radiation. (Jeremy said this was one of the options for me; this will be decided post the next PSA test, to be performed mid-December.)
An odd circumstance occurred this morning. I had to put the tablet on the charger, and my phone was getting a bit low as well. So I thought I would use the laptop to do the MP3s, checking a web site, etc. It turned out that I hadn't switched this on the last time I had plugged it back in, so it was nearly empty. What might this be called: digital drought? Cyber-withdrawal? Anyway, it made me realise how much I have been relying on these various devices to communicate. It wasn't always so, of course; once people read books, wrote letters, and so on. So I read a bit more of Godel, Escher, Bach for a while, before I ended up using the laptop plugged in. Just reading or listening to music definitely requires more concentration and the need to overcome FOMO.
Have been feeling quite sad now and again, but this is to be expected. We have had some difficult news to assimilate. This last fortnight, however, with my beloved at home with me, has been wonderful, mostly very serene. We are closer now, I believe. These words from A strange place, courtesy of the wonderful YANA site, definitely apply. The author, Terry Herbert, is describing the experience of men who have worked through prostate cancer to the remission stage.
They appreciate life and their loved ones more. They enjoy each day because they have had an intimation of mortality. It seems ironic that we have to be diagnosed with a life-threatening disease before we truly appreciate how wonderful our lives are.
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