DVT (deep vein thrombosis) DAY 5

So today starts with a false start having misread my watch as 8:20 when in fact it was 06:20. So the kitchen got cleared before I went back to bed to get the rest of my nights sleep. The next time I get up there is just enough time to have breakfast before the days self-stabbing. Its not the actual pain of doing it but the anxiety of doing something to myself and never being quite sure how it is going to feel or how my body is going to react to it. Each time is feels different so it creates a certain amount of anxiety.

Apart from the annual council tax demand arriving in the post there was a letter from a friend in Scotland. It was, as ever, thoughtful and supportive. I always appreciate letters and it spurs me to write them myself. The personal nature of letters is addictive. I find when I sit and write letters the flow of them comes naturally and they seem to have a life of their own and will wander around my mind and fall out the end of my pen. I still use a fountain pen for letters although this format accentuates my dyslexia. I am told that at times they pose a challenge to the reader.

I spent some time researching the work I will need to do to repair and upgrade my lap top. Fortunately I have all the tools I need, all I am waiting for is the now disc drive to arrive and then it will be hours of concentration and playing by educated ear.

So with the homework done it is time to go for afternoon tea at a posh hotel, one of the gifts for our civil partnership.  Good way to spend the afternoon sipping coffee nibbling delicate sandwiches and mini cakes. What it does provide to time to talk and to plan and as we were the only people in the restaurant it felt quite unique.

On the way home we called into the big Sainsburys near us to buy ingredients for a couple of new Indian dishes. What was appalling was the number of empty shelves that had been cleared by the suggestable, over anxious and under thinking general British public. They are so thick they cannot even get the symptoms of a pandemic right. As a woman being interviewed on TV noted when asked about the panic buying of toilet rolls; “wrong end”. So we found what we wanted and made for home. Once back we settled down to an evening of sport relief, Vera and blogging.  The blogging has taken a strange turn in that I’ve started to get literally hundreds of comments but many of them are the same. It looks like I am being spammed but in amongst them are some people that I recognise. The vast majority are very complimentary although there is the odd troll in there. It is interesting that the odd troll voice sticks more than the other more complimentary ones. How British a response is that? However  as I have a life limiting illness the trolls can fuck themselves and more to the point they need to consider that if they piss me off enough I will take them with me. Not a good idea to piss off a dying person.