Feeling shite - In the name of Thiago - Day 93
Fear not, I’ve not
been putting an ungloved hand down the khazi. Nope instead I was kept up
through the night with a painful bladder. Nasty.
And as the day has
gone on, it’s not really felt much better despite my best interests to flush it
out drinking lots and lots of water. I have been advised to get some cranberry juice
down me from a couple of sources – thank you Claire and Jamie – but the truth
of it is that I couldn’t face going out, which thinking about it now seems
strange. I think we’re all a bit all over the place though to be honest, including
poor old Boris.
Angelica is on another
long day today. I’d forgotten what life was like before Thiago but I’m being
reminded now. It is a little like ships passing at night. As Angelica is involved
in such a highly intense job, we keep conversations to a minimum. If she’s working
back to back days it would be ridiculous to try to exist any other way is what
experience has eventually taught me.
I saw this when I came
down this morning at around 7. And my initial thought was, shit the bed I don’t
remember seeing that last night, she hasn’t smashed one down her before going
to work has she? Angelica leaves the house at 6.30am and comes home at around
8.30pm.
It’s brutally tough, horrendously underpaid, especially when you consider
that she is currently putting her life at risk every time she goes to work on
the specialist Covid-19 ward. She does it uncomplainingly in spite of everything.
I’m incredibly proud of her.
On a brighter note, I’ve
managed to get through the day, I’m about to get a good dose of veg inside me
and then it’s an early night.
To promote the virtues
of companionship I guess, work have encouraged us all to take photos with our
pets today for an internal news feature. It’s harmless enough and if it cheers
people up why not I say. Unfortunately, our cat Jack never lets me anywhere
near him as he’s a little shit so I’ve pictured myself here with Bill the fish.
Bill used to have a
mate called Tony. The pair were named after the former Australian opening batsman
Bill Lawry and South African born England captain Tony Greig, who made a
tremendous commentary team in later life. They – the fish not the men, Christ
they couldn’t have looked more different – looked very similar and when my Mum once
asked me how I could tell which was which, I explained that Tony was the one
with the broad South African accent!
I’ve just realised
that this time next week I’ll be writing my hundredth consecutive blog, which
is something I’m very proud of. The fundraising for Birmingham Children’sHospital and Royal Stoke University Hospital goes on and I urge you to join in if
you haven’t done so already. Yes, it has slowed a little with all the uncertainty
flying around at the moment but this walk will go ahead whether it’s this
summer or later in the year. So please don’t think for a minute that I’m going to
back down from my 300-mile walk because that ain’t happening. That is a very
solemn promise.
Right that’s enough
today, time to plate up and wait for my gorgeous wife to return, no doubt completely
exhausted. I salute her and her NHS colleagues as I hope you do too.
Here here my dear ol thing.... Bloody marvels those NHS folk. Peace and love x
ReplyDeletePeace and love shared and coming right back atcher my good friend x
ReplyDelete