Three good days, I’m getting worried

There must be something wrong. It can’t be really this good. Well actually something did go wrong, so that’s all right then.

We actually got to our language class today (we are in an Anglo-Saxon language learners’ class).  The last two sessions I had to miss because I got a short-notice Manchester Royal Infirmary (MRI)  appointment.  I felt really good, SheWhoMustBeObeyed got to do her talk on Anglo-Saxon læceas (doctors) that she had researched and prepared over three months ago.

Then my phone rang.  It was the Spanish lass that is staying with is, there’s a man come to collect the chairs for renovating.   Ghastly memory of making a booking for the Renovators to come round and collect the chairs. I realize we’ve dropped one!

So I drop everything, leg it back home, sort the chairs out, leg it back, except that I forget my crutches in my hurry and have to stand around unaided for about three times longer than I comfortably can while he takes the chairs out.  When I get back, it’s just in time to get the end of the talk.

When we finally did get home I collapsed into bed, exhausted.  Still it was a good day. I ate normal food again, with potatoes, and had two slices of bread for snacks.  And none of it hurt at all.

I’m still not eating normal portions, and I’m down to 84Kg, but I think it was much more weight loss at the worst. My goal is to get back to 86Kg by weekend.

And did you know the Anglo-Saxon word for “the cancer” is “se cancer”.  Not a lot of people know that!

Wes ðū hāl (Be Well)