There have been a great many blog entries recently which I have not posted. In fairness, I haven't written them either, so it's not like I'm wasting effort. Anyway, I feel I may have already moved well away from the point before, even, I've established what the point is - something of a record whilst only in sentence two. Oh dear, I can see it's going to one of “those” blog entries.
What I need here is a way in, some sort of device which will direct my brain towards what my heart wants to express. OK, I've had an idea. Take a look at this card that I received some weeks ago. Go on, click on it, it'll go big enough for you to read even the small words on it. Every single get well card I have received has been most wonderful, all have been thoughtful and have, in their own way, accelerated the healing process. However, as Christmas approaches, the time has come to clear them away to make way for the new wave of cards. I decided to keep this one, because the card itself has special qualities:
1) The sentiment expressed is accurate and highly specific.
2) It has a picture of my hero Andy Pipkin on the front. Not in his chair, but healed. Very strong positive imagery.
3) It was home-produced, something which always impresses me.
4) It's fairly funny.
5) It's quite nice.
Actually, this underlines the problem I have been experiencing. I can prattle on quite merrily about this and that, but I seem to have lost my ability to share anything of any real note. I certainly don't want to harp on about being ill, because I am as sick of that as you are. Having said that, in order to catch you up with where I am, my health is an inextricable part of the picture.
So, to be brief, I have both got better and been better, a good bit better, but not better enough not to be unwell. I'm stuck on a sort of plateau - a stinky plateau where my left leg continues to need a bandage because it is still leaking lymph. Pain levels vary, but, in general, I am in a lot less discomfort than previously.
I've just read that bit back and it sounds naff. Maybe it's just me that feels naff. So, it's late. Time to sign off and blog a little more tomorrow.
You wrote it ... and posted it. I like its honesty. I often decide something is naff before I've written it! Sad that you are still leaking, but great that pain levels are going down. Here's to the naff feeling disappearing. :-)
Posted by: Liz | December 14, 2004 at 09:18 PM