DVT DAY 12

It’s difficult to be Jolly when your waking thought is the blood sample to be taken to be followed by a self-injection, but I tried my best. After a swift breakfast and noting that my partner was already in the office fielding calls I wandered off to the GP surgery. In the face of the corona virus the waiting room had been reorganised to keep the infected out and those without seated well apart.

I was called in by the masked nurse and who examined my blood demand forms and then stuck the needle in me. All over in a blink of an eye really and then I am walking out with a fluffy cloud of cotton wall taped to my arm. I waked down to the village café, which remains open despite the age of the owners. I order a bacon baguette and a coffee not knowing that Boris was going to order all cafes and the like to close this Friday night. I have time to enjoy my roll before I walk back home to self-stab.

I’m getting quite bruised around my gut with all this self-stabbing but I guess its unavoidable. I retreat to the garden shed and start to prep for the work call that I am booked into at 10:30. The call goes well and I set about editing a draft letter for the services we work with. I spend the rest of the morning drafting letters and sending them off to the team to be edited and worked up into a publishable form. A brief lunch with my partner and then I retreat to the garden shed again. The postman delivered some RAM for the laptop so I spent a few minutes installing it. No problems, all seems to be going well. I write letters and check my e-mails for the afternoon until I go down to the post box. I notice after having put the letters in the box that the collection plate is still saying Tuesday. I wonder if the letters I posted earlier in the week have been collected and I begin to get irritated at myself for not noticing the delayed flag. I tramp back home. Back in the shed I write a bit more until my daughter returns from work and we have a discussion about her options for working. As she works part time in the local community college she has some work options but she was concerned about me if she remained in contact with the students. We talked about the options and then she went of to the gym to train. That’s something she won’t be doing again for a while.

So with work done it was time to sort out my laundered clothes but I was niggled by the post box not being emptied. I decide to go to the post office, which is also home to a local provisions shop, and ask if the post box was being emptied. I wander round the shop and pick random items that I have not seen elsewhere. By sheer chance the post office is having its pick up so I ask the postman if the box in the village is being emptied because the collection plate is saying Tuesday. He says the plate is stuck but the post box is being emptied. Do I believe him? Maybe, I will see if my letters arrive. I return home with yet more bacon.

Dinner comes from the chippy who have chicken and fish to fry, so its luxury tonight and we get to save our last in date mince for another day. Tonight will be blog time and hopefully a film. I notice that I am tired and do not feel I have the energy to do anything intellectual like read a book, its vegetable time.