… today at dialysis.

The weight to be taken out was exactly on the maximum for a period of three and a half hours, so they wound the machine up to full speed.

During the session though, my blood pressure dropped to 7.5 and I was riddled with cramps and pains. I was all set to push on, but they refused to countenance it and wound the machine back somewhat.

That wasn’t at all what I had planned, because it means that for the following session, the one on Saturday afternoon, there will be correspondingly more to take out so that I (hopefully) will be back at my target weight. And it better had all be taken out on Saturday too because with chemotherapy on Tuesday and Wednesday next week, they will be pumping even more fluid into me than I usually take on board.

Yes, it’s been a right tale of woe today

This really sad day started off yesterday evening, to be precise. Once more, being totally unable to concentrate yet again, it was another horribly late night when I finally crawled into bed. It may not have been midnight, but it wasn’t all that far off.

It was another night where I couldn’t go to sleep very quickly. I ended up tossing and turning around in bed for quite some considerable time before I fell into the arms of Morpheus.

Even worse, I was wide awake at 04:20, without (so it seemed) very much prospect of going back to sleep. In fact, I tried very hard without success, but just as I was on the point oof giving it up as a bad job and leaving the bed, the alarm sounded and awoke me.

So whether I’d been dreaming that I was awake, or whether I really had been awake and had gone back to sleep, I really don’t know.

Something else that seems to be quite usual these days is that it took an age to leave the bed to sort myself out. And what with the washing to do and the medication to take, it was really late by the time that I came back in here.

To my surprise, there was something on the dictaphone from the night. Not a lot, it has to be said, but there we are. This was something to do with having some kind of naval base in the middle of the Atlantic somewhere. Various ships and submarines would go out on patrol to try to keep the area clear of the enemy but I can’t remember very much at all about this unfortunately.

This is the kind of dream that you have when you spend most of your free time reading about commerce raider, submarines and the like.

The nurse was early again today. As well as the usual procedure, we discussed the question of these foot supports. He’s agreed to help me fit them on Sunday, so that shall be interesting.

Then it was time for breakfast and more of BATTLES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION.

The British army has now all but given up the struggle and I reckon that the next few pages will see the Fall of Yorktown and the end of British resistance – the very end of a sad, sorry campaign of delay, inaction and lack of aggressiveness.

Back in here, I had to ring up to book my taxi for Rennes next week, and then I had things to do. Finally, I carried on with my radio programme.

My cleaner arrived as usual and sorted me out, followed by the taxi, that was on time for once.

Well, the taxi might have called here on time and my arrival at the dialysis centre might also have been on time, but as usual these days, I was the last to be connected up. I’ve no idea why that might be, but it’s becoming far too frequent for my liking.

As I said a little earlier, it was a very painful session and I didn’t enjoy it at all. I couldn’t concentrate on doing any work which was a shame because I have plenty to do these days and it’s not being done.

After all of the confusion, they finally let me out – late as usual – and then I had to await the taxi which had not arrived. And what with having to drop off someone else, I was horribly late returning here, yet again. And here I found a pile of tax bills awaiting me. I told you that it was a bad day today.

After a little while to recover, I made tea – a leftover curry. And once more, I left a pile of food on the plate. I’m really not doing too well these days.

But right now, I’m off to bed. I can’t keep on going any longer. Whatever happened to the days (and nights) when I’d be still awake at 04:00 and 05:00?

But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about how hard it is … "well, one of us has" – ed … I remember talking to an Australian friend of mine about my illness and how fed up I was of the whole situation.
"It seems to be really hard to die" I told him.
"Too right" he replied "but it’s not as hard as it was yester-die"