Deep Thoughts

I'm avoiding deep thoughts.

I'm in the land of specialist care which can be very alarming as more pills are added to my daily stash of ingestion.

It's best not to think about it all, yeah?

This latest fellah, lawd so thorough, serious of demeanour, so strict, so no-nonsense. Laid out my life for me just so. Pleasantries were cast out like he was on a diet and was offering me crumbs. Ireland. Israel. Accountancy. Lifestyle, was, is and future as prescribed by Himself. Strict, abstemious, measurements taken 4 times a day. Exercise de rigeur. And see him, again, with my daily journal on June 1st.

One of those times when Daughter said to me a few days before this meet-up: I think I should go with you, Mum. No, sez I, it will be just a consult. I don't need anyone with me for a consult.

Egg on the face time. More than a consult, there were liquids taken from every part of me. Measurements, files read on the computer, tapes dictated in front of me. "Patient presented......". No place to run, no place to hide.

Apart from a good cry in my car, alone, I processed it all over a few days, and I came to the conclusion: Yes, I have to restrict my diet, add the meds I fought for so long, knuckle down. Grow up. Fly right. And pay attention to Bob Newhart. I can do this.