ironically, this is how we like to wind down on a sunday evening: novels, listening to 1930s music from the Savoy hotel, then Chet Baker, a light dish of scrambled eggs (and peas, we Are British after all) and candlelight – but we could do WITHOUT the intense pain, the immobile neck and the handful of bloody calcium pills every four hours (as our body isn’t making any of its own, poor body, all hacked and bruised and sad and quite frankly pretty weepy).
by the way – weird excitement – we have a burn mark below our right collarbone. swiftly we checked the other side for a similar mark – PADDLES? DID THEY LOSE US?!!
oh. right. apparently it was the heart monitor. left on for five hours it got hot and singed us.
we are Very Sensitive.
and sore. did we mention that?
ok – we gave ourselves a strongtalkingto – a week to be really sick and then two weeks to build ourselves up again.
B (another B – we know a few, actually, all special in their own way) came by at 4pm to “walk us”. sort of like an escort to the Plaza. we’re far Too Vulnerable to go out alone (and very shaky still).
felt nice with the slight autumnal breeze on our neck dressings.
ah. the seasons change.
more tea? why not.