… three hours at dialysis today. And with the machine going at not far off full tilt too. Mind you, it was exhausting, and I reckon that I should be in for a good night’s sleep tonight.
Rather like last night, in fact.
The notes were finished at some kind of reasonable time and then I dashed through the rest of the things that needed doing. Somehow managing to avoid falling asleep while riding the porcelain horse, I was back here and in bed by 23:02.
A couple of minutes later than I intended, but it can’t be helped. It’s still earlier than several others have been just recently.
Once in bed, it took a few minutes to doze off to sleep, and there I stayed until all of … errr … 04:20. Not being able to go back to sleep, I was giving serious thought to leaving the bed but I reckoned that I’d give it five more minutes and then heave myself out of my stinking pit, but the next thing that I remember was the alarm going off at 06:29.
At that moment, I was attaching some kind of white PVC guttering to a 1950s or early 1960s bungalow. There had been some discussion about fitting it, and how complicated it was, so I posted several photos of me doing it and how I could do it quite comfortably and make a good job of it, but people still carried on with this issue about how difficult it was. Anyway, the alarm went off at that moment.
After all the work that needed doing on the farm, I became something of an expert on fitting guttering. However, the guttering that I used was standard grey, except on the wooden buildings where it was brown if I could find it, and that wasn’t all the time either.
Having finally (but not without a battle) struggled to my feet, I staggered off into the bathroom for a good wash and shave in case I meet Emilie the Cute Consultant today, and then I went into the kitchen for the medication.
Back in here, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out what else might have been on there. Unfortunately, there wasn’t very much. A new ship had been launched during the American Civil War. It was instructed specifically to keep clear of any kind of naval engagement. However, the captain prepared it with cannon etc and was intent on waging war in it. There were various disguises etc, and quite a few people came to inspect the ship and then left, suitably impressed as he prepared to wage his one-man war on the enemy.
This dream is very reminiscent of the largely ignored but absolute classic film MURPHY’S WAR where a shipwrecked mariner fights a one-man war against a German submarine.
The story about ship disguises though relates to the commerce raiders that the Germans used. They would comb their merchant fleet for ships that had twins in foreign fleets, soup them up and arm them and send them, disguised as innocent merchantmen from other countries, to wreak havoc in the shipping lanes.
Quite often, a little wood framing and painted canvas could enable them to resemble completely different ships, so they were constantly changing identity in order to escape detention.
Isabelle the Nurse turned up as usual and sorted out my injection and then dealt with my feet and legs. After she left, I made my breakfast and had a leisurely start to the morning.
Once I was back in here, there were a few things that needed doing and then I finished off sorting out the music for this radio programme on which I’m working. I now have twenty-one tracks for eighty-three minutes, from which I need to choose about fifty-two minutes-worth.
My cleaner turned up as usual to apply the anaesthetic on my arm, and then I had to await the taxi.
It was the guy who seems to be in charge who came for me. He was early, which was nice and made a change, and so I arrived early at dialysis.
By 14:10, I was plugged in, wired up and properly organised, and in the main, they left me alone.
Emilie the Cute Consultant was there and she spoke to everyone else, except to me again. I’m convinced that she doesn’t love me any more, which is a tragedy.
They weren’t as prompt in unplugging me, unfortunately. It was 18:20 when I finally made it back here, taking my cleaner completely by surprise. It was another one of the nice, chatty chauffeurs who brought me home and we had had a lovely non-stop chat all the way home.
After a nice long rest, I made tea. Baked potato, veg and some strange spinach pasty things in breadcrumbs. But once more, despite it being a small portion of food, a fair amount ended up in the bin. I really am worried about this.
But I shall worry about it tomorrow because I’m off to bed for that good sleep that I have promised myself. We’ll see if it’s not “famous last words”.
But seeing as we have been talking about not eating … "well, one of us has" – ed … losing weight the way that I’m doing it is easier than some other methods.
A girl from Crewe went to the doctor’s to ask for some weight loss guidance.
After he examined her, he told her "the easiest way is to eat normally for two days, skip a day, eat normally for two days, skip a day, and keep that up for a month. Then come back and we’ll examine you again."
So back she goes after a month and she’s lost seven kilos.
"That’s wonderful" said the doctor. "Was it difficult?"
"To tell the truth, doctor, it nearly killed me."
"The hunger, you mean?"
"No, doctor. All that skipping!"
