At our last consultation with Dr P on Wednesday 21st, I knew the PSA had gone up without him saying so. (When it has gone down he leads with that – when it has increased, he prefaces that with some positive news.) So it was on Monday, when, after a couple of encouraging comments, he told us the PSA had gone up a bit to 12.8.

The good news, however, was quite encouraging. I had had my three monthly CT and bone scans the preceding Monday. According to these, everything is stable. (My take on this — the hormone treatment is continuing to suppress the cancer.)

Dr P added that he was going to be away in January 2023. I generally see him every month, but in light of the scan results (and how I’m looking), he’s happy to not see me until February. This is the first time that I will have had a two month gap between consults for years. So if he feels he doesn’t have to keep such a close eye on me, for the time being at least, well and good.

Recently I read the old joke about averages, along the lines that someone with one foot on fire, and the the other foot in an ice bath, should, on average, be quite comfortable. On average, therefore, I am quite OK with this news. If the PSA grumbles along, but doesn’t do anything startling, that is all anyone can hope for. Shit happens, but we deal with it as and when. Meanwhile, we sat outside on the first warm day for ages and had Christmas a deux — which was what we both wanted. Props to those catering for and delivering comestibles to a crowd! Love and comiserations to those digesting difficult news. Both require good old-fashioned G and D — qualities I know you lot all have in spades.