~o~
Sunday 28th 50F/10C. Bright and breezy but rather cloudy.
I have just dropped a cough tablet into half a glass of water. You may well imagine my consternation at the time it took to fully dissolve. It requires little imagination to understand why I had froth coming out of my ears yesterday.
Having dropped the first tablet straight into my mouth. In the bustling village high street. Only the close proximity of the public toilet. Saved me from certain frothiness over an extended period. Perhaps even weeks!
I should mention, in case of serious doubt, that I had ducked under the tap in the sink. In order to imbibe sufficient fluids to quell the frothing. Thankfully I did not have to fire up my electron microscope. Once I safely reached home again. Simply to read the manufacturer's list of dire warnings against ever taking their medicine. Not to mention their list of morbid side effects. Characterized by the rate of mortality per individual user! I bet they were optimizing the figures too!
I used Google and my 32" monitor to read the online version of the instructions. In a text size suitable for frothing pensioners. To be easily read in case of emergency. Albeit a whole day, or, in reality, a mere 18 hours, too late. Had the instructions been printed in normal human size. Rather than sub-dwarf Font, Lilliputian italics. I could have saved myself a great deal of worry.
It is inexplicable, given my dire health issues. Including "man cold," insomnia and extreme old age. That I have been feeling rather cheerful over the last two days. The sunshine and increased warmth have filled me with a completely unnecessary, spring-like optimism. That I might yet survive the entire week. If only to drag the heavy recycling bins along the drive. Before gently expiring and toppling into the neighbour's hedge.
This despite my heart scan having been moved forwards by three weeks. To make room for one more deserving. The example proves that either the hospital is callous and uncaring. Or, that they think I might indeed struggle on for a little longer. Despite my worrying symptoms of breathlessness. While working as a fit and juvenile navvy.
What next? I count myself fortunate indeed. That I have adequate pockets in my cycling jacket. The better to house the nitroglycerine, emergency spray. In case of severe "topple-fullness" while out on an extended ride. Perhaps a ride is all I need? To be returned to my youthful, former self. Of only a few short years ago. Which means I will now have to torment myself in finding a suitable goal for my efforts today. One not too demanding and preferably with a tailwind while coming home. No, not that kind of wind! We don't talk about that sort of thing here.
The prevailing wind is south easterly. So I could go down to the coast and the usually empty lanes. Say about a 20 mile round trip? Or should I stick to main roads? Just in case I take a turn for the worse and start frothing again? We don't want any lurid headlines in the local, free ads rag. About some unidentified old fart. Being found face down, in his own froth, beside his e-bike in the verge. If said e-bike hadn't already been stolen, of course.
8.30 The sun is weakening. I had better have a gentle stroll first. To check everything is still working. After an enforced week of decrepitude.
9.15 60F/15.6C. Unrelenting sunshine bore down on my cowering form throughout my abbreviated walk. I was jerked violently from my initial somnambulism. By a pair of twin-engined swans. Using my drive to guide themselves unerringly on a strafing run against Chez Hovel. I ducked but they had much larger prey in mind. Not so the geese. Who came clattering in formation over the roadside hedge. With certain destruction in mind. Fortunately only their rear gunners had a clear shot. So I escaped unscathed yet again.
I greeted several neighbours going about their business. Spoke in gentle tones of admonishment to the guard dog. Which has taken to resolutely ignoring me of late. A more distant neighbour went about collecting small stones. To free their first attempt at mowing their, as yet unsullied new prairies, from inevitable encumbrances.
9.30 I sit here sweating. Wondering why the wittering old fool. Hasn't made morning coffee and a roll yet. That 45% real fruit marmalade will not get spread by itself!
As it nears 10 o'clock I am not driven by the need. To go haring across the rural countryside. Like some carefree youth still full of forlorn hope. Bereft of any sense of danger. Not yet beaten into a much smaller version than might have been hoped.
There was no freedom from breathlessness. As I approached the house for the umpteen thousandth time. Reality demands that any remaining, faltering energy be consumed by hedge trimming. Or even taking a first top cut of the towering grasses. Presently only pretending to be a lawn. While currently providing enough shelter, grazing and cover. For any passing herd of bison. I really ought to go for a ride. If only to escape the logjam of washing up!
21.00 The sky has turned orange. Perhaps in anticipation of tonight's thunder storms. The rest of the day passed without my leaving the house. Dinner was a salad. The washing up remains in limbo. The tuna tasted a bit funny. So you can pass this detail onto the coroner. Only if should it prove necessary. I still have to take one dustbin and one recycling bin along the drive. I ought to do it now. While a smidgen of light remains. I may be some time. Wish me luck!
My timing was perfect. The rain had just started. Three coughing fits later I returned almost unscathed.
~o~
No comments:
Post a Comment