I got Julia to work this morning around 8.30, and waited patiently as someone backed out of a parking space in a leisurely manner. He made a mess of it, but when I was able to see the driver I could tell why – he had a peeled banana in his hand and it was clearly slowing him down. After dropping her off I was able to join a queue behind the banana eater and wait patiently behind him at two more junctions, as he appeared to stop and reflect on his life before each manoeuvre. Not the best start to the day, but far from the worst. That belonged to a man who was in a collision on the ring road just before I turned off to the shop. He had been hit from behind, his rear offside wing was chewed up and the rear window of his van had disintegrated. That’s far worse than being delayed by a man eating fruit.

Having said that, the addition of a hyphen could have made my day a lot more interesting. being held up by a man-eating fruit really would have been worth blogging about.

The rest of the day wasn’t even as interesting as the dull version of my day. We did the parcels, put a few things on eBay and I went home for a night of quiz shows, where I didn’t do very well.

Last night was slightly more exciting. After several months of putting it off I finally started injecting myself with adalimumab. Who comes up with these drug names? It’s another immunosuppressant to deal with my arthritis, and has, I’m told, side effects like cancer, heart failure and liver failure. And, in the middle of Covid, it can also mean that I become ill a lot more. Just what you need, isn’t it? I had a telephone consultation today and the rheumatologist was keen to check I had had my winter flu and Covid vaccinations. It’s a shame they can’t prescribe isolation – I’d happily spend the next three months avoiding human contact as long as I was paid. I doubt that will happen.

I used to inject myself with an anti-coagulant at one time. It was just for a few months after coming out of hospital, and it was done using small, pre-prepared syringes with fine needles and a plunger you pressed yourself. I’m a bit of a coward but I made myself do it and it all went OK.

The injectors for the new stuff are about twice the size and much less pleasant. You don’t put it on the injection site then complete the job with gentle finger pressure. You press firmly, release a spring loaded plunger, and feel your eyes bulge as a spring-loaded needle (which feels about the size of a hosepipe) stabs you violently and spends two seconds pumping the stuff in before clicking a second time to signify it is complete. Self-injection with the anti-coagulant was like the gentle caress of reading a Shakespearean Sonnet on a summer’s day whilst sipping elderflower cordial. Self-injection with adalimumab is like being beaten over the head with the screenplay of Terminator on a  wet Thursday evening in Hartlepool.  Fortunately I only have to do it once a fortnight, so I have another thirteen days before I need to do it again. Not that I’m counting, or anything.