I’m sorry that my health is dominating most of my posts just now. I really don’t have that much to complain about; I’m not in hospital and my life is not in danger, but it is kind of dominating everything at the moment. Yesterday I managed to have a bath with considerable help and spent the day lying flat out listening to radio comedies through the Internet and a few bizarre Radio 4 documentaries. In particular I listened to a sociological analysis of sexism in Gangsta Rap, which was very entertaining, these south of England academic types attempting to deconstruct the culture of Da Hood. And I have been having trouble with talking to my family. Talking to anybody come to think of it.
You sometimes have to give people information about how you’re doing. For example, I think it’s reasonable for me to mention my health on here to explain the fact that I have hardly done anything since I started this blog on the first day of this month. And when folks ask me what I have been up to and I say not a lot, well that often warrants an explanation. Trouble is people worry and fuss or else tire of me always giving them bad news. So pretty much every time I speak to anybody I say I am picking up, even though I’m not at all. And then when I still haven’t left the house a week later I have to back-track. This weekend I have been struggling to sound bright and perky for the length of phone calls before returning to the pathetic mumble that comes naturally to me just now.
So on the one hand, I wish people just didn’t know, didn’t ask and didn’t worry when it is obvious that I am doing badly. Then again, just now, I have a strange but overwhelmed wish that someone who send me a get well soon card. Nobody does this when you’re chronically ill. I guess it would be unrealistic to wish me completely well any time soon, but still.
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