According to Elliott, April is the cruellest month. Well, he’s entitled to his opinion but most of me tends to go with October through to December.
The feet are voting for December because it was then that we were beguiled into having an operation, after which we were assured we’d be “up and about” after six weeks. Six months’ of pirate impressions later we were still hobbling.
The brain is very logically saying December because Christmas is always a wash-out if internally one is only six and externally one is nearer sixty. That is a given.
The rest of the Union are coming down heavily for August / September because we’ve lost it. Well, most of it. We had a visit, we had my birthday and then zap – we were in dreadful pain and out of it in a hospital.
So here we are, with the last of the good days fading and much of my body not functioning. Brain has come back to live but cannot work out which French to use – foreign, local dialect or Parisian. We think we know what year it is but it was touch and go with the Second World War for a time… don’t ask.
Left shoulder, three ribs below left arm and spine are not voting. They are out with the spleen and off sick.
Mind is saying “Make the most of it and toddle off. Go somewhere”. So that is what we shall do .
Of course, it is wonderful to know that all our friends out there care enough to send cards and flowers – perhaps these aren’t the cruellest months, but the kindest xxx