Well, I said I wouldn’t talk about my health anymore and, after three days of being virtually comatose, I find I have written no posts at all. I should be more careful what I say.
Last week I was given antibiotics and steroids and sent away to recover. It got a little better. Today I went back, was given more steroids and two sorts of inhaler. I’m possibly a little better again. The truth is that I have been flattened by whatever I have. I’not written anything or read anything for about 10 days – apart from a few jottings from time to time and the blog posts. The blogging habit it so hard to break that it is almost automatic. And even then, as you can see, I did eventually break. I am just about to begin reading one of my Christmas presents, so a recovery is clearly coming.
One of the things that has worried me over the last few weeks was the prospect of knowing that I am a poet but being unable to write anything, as my faculties decline.
I’ve even found it difficult to watch entire TV programmes and have made much use of catch-up services to fill in the gaps. Sometimes that isn’t enough to stay awake through an entire programme so I cut my losses. If a TV programme is not interesting enough for me to stay awake after two attempts, I consign it to the metaphorical cutting room floor in my head.
Sadly, that’s it, a complete description of my Christmas. Mental shutdown and visits to the doctor. When I do one of those blogs like “My Ten Best Christmases” don’t expect to find 2023 in there.
However, as I often feel compelled to say in summing up, I still have a roof over my head, and am dry and (reasonably) warm. I have also been able to see a doctor (twice) when I needed one and have been given plenty of drugs at no additional cost. There are, I am sure, people who would be happy to swap with me.
I’m a few days late to this one. I hope you’re getting there.
Slowly, but yes, I’m getting there. Thank you.
You will feel better, and be able to write again, Simon. Keep looking up!
Yes, onward and upwards as my old school motto used to say.
Take it at your own pace. Recovery is more important than anything else.
It’s a case of adjusting to the slower pace of recovery as I age. 🙂 I was very good about that when advising you to be patient earlier, but not quite so good now. 🙂
Don’t worry about your posts, we’ll be here when you get healthy!
Thank you. 🙂
I recognise that sense of “is this it?” when illness or decrepitude strikes. But we do get better – especially in retirement.
Thank you – it’s good to know. 🙂