Opting Out

I am cancelling my scheduled operation.

Cowardice it may be, but on the other hand it might be damned sensible; anything planned for the 13th of the month, with the way my luck runs, that involves cutting into my body and anaesthesia, is not going ahead.

Either way, the op is off.

***

It is now officially two weeks since I have eaten.

I am told that's nothing; hunger strikers can keep it up for months.

Then they die.

In Dreams

This morning I woke up screaming from a nightmare/hallucination. I tried to find the door where it would have been when I was in the bedroom that I had when I was about 10, so I could get to my mother.

Weird.

This is possibly related to the fact I haven't actually eaten any food in over a week (hence imminent hospital visit) because of pill complications.

Lack of food does funny things to your head.

Sting in the Tale

I've actually been more affected by that poem going up online than I thought I would be, or than I probably have any right to be.

One of the hard things is knowing he wrote it when he loved me, thinking about me; for me. And now it's just another sale.
And, nothing to do with his doing, there is a dreadful synchronicity to the timing of the publishing of the thing.
And, connected to that timing, a ghastly horror story in itself in my publishing life has unfolded and taken on a life of its own, simply out of me trying to do something nice.

I never learn.

All the stress is, as usual, rather bad for me. This time, added to a number of pill-related complications, there is a chance I will be seeing the inside of a hospital ward for a few days this week. Certainly I'll be seeing a new doctor or two. It's all a bit scary.

And right now, I can't help but wish he was here.

Life From Another Side

"...was inspired by a desire to see life from another side"

Bollocks.

He wrote that poem for me.

It was my Christmas present.

Well it's a little late, but thanks very much.