It’s not like me

It’s not like me to be scared, but I am at the moment. What if I go to the fracture clinic tomorrow and they say I’ve got to keep the plaster for longer? What if I get my plastic boot but I’m too scared to drive?

But this is all very silly, and actually things are progressing. I have the odd bad pain day, but today I’m feeling good. I had a lift to go and visit my GP surgery group, and they are doing fine; I’ve been out again (to see Hitchcock), and we’ve taken back the loaned wheelchair; I’ve prepared most of the Koestler entries (the last ever Koestler entries for my prison), and worked on a book of diaries written by prisoners; and the sun is shining.

That’s about it, really. It’s not like me to have such a dull life, but with any luck, normal service will be resumed this week. I won’t cross my fingers, though, because that would make it difficult to manage the crutches.

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