190. The comfort of chocolate

As the 10 stone mark creeps ever closer, AND I have just ordered a new swimsuit online in size 14 as there is no chance of getting my size 8 cossie over one thigh, I decided to fill my time with investigating suitable exercises that might flatten a tummy. Armed with a Cadbury’s Time Out (I thought the name appropriate) and having been instructed to put aside any ‘sodas’ or ‘fries’ but not chocolate (I like this lady, or am I missing her point?) I watched, slightly appalled at what might be expected of me. The exercises involving pressure on the hands are out. The exercises involving bending the feet are out. Anything lying on a mat is out - I shan’t be able to get up again. She completely lost me when she described pain as “motivating.” To what? Reach for the Voltarol? Anyway, I have concluded there is one twisting exercise I can do standing up. You are meant to keep your feet together but I’d topple so I can stand feet apart and, arms stretched out at shoulder height, twist sideways repeatedly.

It’s a start. The gym opens next week and I don’t want to give up my membership. So long as I can drive and it’s safe to hobble to the pool. Maybe I can go swimming a few times a week. Maybe....

I survived Monday intact. Just a bump on the back of my hand where attempt #1 failed to cannulate me. The hospital wasn’t buzzing but it wasn’t much less busy than pre-pandemic. Everyone was masked though I saw no signs to instruct us, In fact, I did see one young woman sitting maskless but no one was going anywhere near her - maybe that was her purpose. Things were marked out clearly and there were signs not to enter particular spaces and I watched staff in the corridors step aside to allow people to pass without encroaching on these areas (mostly round the reception areas and nurses’ stations).

Emma drove me there, a somewhat circuitous route but she knew what she was doing so I kept quiet. What did I care? I’d taken my lorazepam lol. Only 1 this time. The 30 minute treatment took 70 minutes but that was the nurses faffing around. They are lovely and I would never dream of criticising them but timekeeping isn’t a strength.

The sandwich lady appeared, followed by a tea lady who made my first drinkable St James’s tea. Challenge: how to consume either when masked. I tried lifting my mask above my nose but was blinded by that so I resorted to hooking it under my chin. As a result, much of the interaction with the nurse was with me mask-free But I reckon she was confident I was a safe bet as I’ve been shielding.The other problem was how to reach my ‘lunch’ when it was on my right and I mustn’t move my right hand. Hmm.

And here it is. A little bag of pure acid dripping into my veins. I wonder if it would strip the floor tiles. When it goes in, you can feel it flowing through the lower arm because it’s cold, but not beyond the elbow. Maybe it’s warmed up by then.

Tuesday I felt fine. Wednesday I just wanted to sleep. Thursday I noticed my joints are much worse, especially my hands. I hope it’s not back to square 1. I’ll be cross. However, to compensate, the sun came out so I sat in a windy garden, plugged into my iPod but still plagued by construction noise. It’s hardly surprising when they are this close, maybe 10 metres away on two sides. Big sigh..

Their weeds. Ours aren’t quite so high.

Rapid progress. They seem to be an awful lot closer as they gain a bit of height!

However, with the gym open, and after 1 August, at least I’ll be free to get away from the noise for part of the time. Roll on August. Why August 1? It makes no sense. 6 July for the country. 1 August for the shielded. Are they leaving nearly 4 weeks to make sure all those people flocking out of their homes don’t infect themselves again? I decided I’d break ranks and I’ve booked a hair appointment for the 27th! Oooh, what a rebel.