Long Term Sucks

2026 May 7th

The last few months have been long and not entirely happy for me. I said when I posted in March that I had some kind of lurgy, and that turned out to be true with bells on. The chest infection I picked up, likely when I was giving a talk at the Norwich Science Festival (a brilliant event, just a lot of people around and I probably didn’t protect myself adequately from their germs) lingered for a couple of months in the end. One lot of antibiotics only half shifted it, then I went downhill again and needed a second course, which finally shifted the infection. But not without taking away from my energy levels, my fitness, and to some extent my sanity. At one point I was coughing so badly that I cracked a rib - that’s a personal first I’d be happy never to repeat.

I don’t have an answer for this. Honestly for my health and sanity I’d have been better just staying in bed for a couple of months, interspersed with light exercise in the fresh spring air. In the real world I have a job to do that I care about, and I tried to get back to work as soon as I could to get things done and interact with my colleagues, who are often also my friends. This didn’t go entirely well; I’m still trying to catch up on stuff - no organisation is so well staffed these days that they can just take up the slack when a key individual is under-strength for a while. So I’m stressed and still struggling, and it’s clearly impacted upon other people as well. We’ll repair the damage and move on, but it’s not always been pretty.

On a totally personal level I’ve still to pass 50% of the amount of exercise that I was doing before I got the chest infection. This matters a huge amount to me - the exercise levels I try to maintain are vital for my physical and mental health and wellbeing. Yet, it seems that everything that disrupts my life, puts me another step backwards, and I never seem to get back to where I was before any more. Whilst I’m at it, the lack of exercise and stress do my Body Mass Index no great favours either. This worries me a lot.

On the other hand, there have been wins. I’ve just had my latest blood test, and not only is the PSA marker still undetectable, but my haemoglobin count is now finally, if only just, above the threshold that indicates anaemia. Anaemia seems a common side effect of cancer treatments, and had concerned the aviation authorities - so hopefully that’ll stay healthy and the world can stop worrying about my iron levels. I’d also been worried that during the chest infection my body had finally succumbed to the treatment and I’d hit full-on erectile dysfunction - as happens to the majority of prostate cancer patients. Fortunately, if slowly, I’m emerging from that unhappy place, and hopefully will continue to as I slowly restore my fitness, and maybe even chip away at my obesity. Just maybe, the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t a train coming the other way.

Is there a point to this bit of self pity? Well, I hope so. I’ve known I have cancer for a little over a year and a half now, and it’s been an undeniable roller-coaster of a ride. But there’s clearly a bit of a difference between facing the short term threat, and the longer term impacts. Being told that you have cancer and need, in my case, chemotherapy and radiotherapy is scary as hell. However it’s also something substantial and can be faced down with courage, and the energy and fitness you went into this journey with.

A year later and people may be telling you that you were brave, looking good, and they’re very impressed - but you are also drained and depleted. You’ve less fitness, the chemotherapy messed with your immune system, the radiotherapy messed with your manhood, and the hormone therapy continues to mess with your emotions. Unless you were luckier than me, you’re also probably (more) overweight. So you are in a far worse place to handle, well, just about anything. Other illnesses, workplace stress, family problems, the challenges of dieting - or just the natural challenges of ageing.

(And there’s another challenge in itself - in two months I’ll turn 56. How do I tell if any one thing I notice in myself is due to my cancer, due to the cancer treatment, or down the fact that I’m just getting, frankly, old. Spoiler: I can’t know, just blame everything, and worry about everything.)

I’ve written before about the importance of keeping as fit and healthy as possible to be able to tackle what life throws at you next. This is advice I’ve given, and I’m trying to live up to, but it is very very hard. I can only keep trying my best, but post cancer, still in treatment, significantly post age 50, everything seems to be working against me now. I’m quite certain that I’m very far from alone in trying to fight this, and in being bewildered and frustrated by the battle.

So if this is you as well, keep trying to find the time, energy, and reserves to win this battle yourself. If this is somebody in your life, who have been through the core of cancer treatment and are now with frustration and bewilderment trying to make sense of the long term journey - please recognise that their big battle may be now over, but their war isn’t.

Take care everybody.