Good & Bad
My hair is still slowly sliding off my head. I now have a bald patch on top which looks as if someone has dropped a glass of milk on me and it is running down my head.
I must be experiencing the feelings of a reluctantly balding man, who tries a come-over every morning, and then pushes his remaining hair up from the back, and it never looks convincing.
In the clinic I met a young man with prostate cancer who was being treated with hormones and having hot flushes.
The Gods are laughing at us – well let them get on with it.
The good news is that I met young Maria again at Maggie’s, and although her cancer had returned and she and the doctors thought it had gone to her bones, it hasn’t – it has stopped spreading. This is wonderful news. I wonder if that candle I lit for her in St. Michael’s Bedford Park helped at all? Of course I passionately hope that it did. My Christian faith has increased since all this started, but so has my rationality. They seem to go along in uneasy tandem.
At the weekend I bought some insect repellent in Tesco’s. This is for my putative foreign holiday in early November, when all this nightmare is over and done with.
Last week I unexpectedly sold a newspaper article and three paintings. That pays for the holiday – but I will have to put the money into my bank account and I don’t expect it to still be there in four months time. In London it is very hard to save money, in fact I have never heard of anyone doing it, not even the Queen!