This has been a strange week. I have spent much of it contemplating that I am actually quite old. Before you rush to tell me that 70 is not that old these days, I agree with that widely-held theory. However, I hope you will also agree with me that 70 is not remotely young. And my body has been reminding me of that fact.
Despite a significant drop in temperature from the recent heatwave, we still saw a humid 32C (almost 90F) during the week, with warm uncomfortable nights into the bargain. And despite rain being forecast at least four times, we remained dry in Beetley. Perhaps the driest summer I have known since moving here in 2012.
Then this morning, I woke up to heavy rain.
By Wednesday, I continued to feel so ill that Julie insisted I take a Lateral-Flow test for Covid-19. That was negative, but it was agreed that I would see a doctor on Thursday. That resulted in blood tests, and having to provide stool samples and a urine sample. They were sent off to the hospital pathology department, and I await the results with interest.
I received a Colon Cancer test kit in the post on Friday, courtesy of being of a ‘certain age’, and free of charge on the NHS. Generally known as the ‘Poo Sticks’ test, this served as a reminder that I was old enough to be considered at risk from this serious illness. Not a cheerful post to open. And strangely coincidental, given the concerns of my own doctor…
My energy levels are at a lifetime low, with me considering ‘an early night’ by 9pm. (But holding out until 11pm, so I don’t wake up too early the next morning.) On the plus side, having some worry about what might be wrong with you makes you less concerned about the political circus going on in Britain currently. It is surprisingly comforting to consider that you may not live to see the mess the next Conservative Prime Minister will get us in. Until the next election, when hopefully the public will see sense, and get rid of them.
On another plus side, Ollie continues to respond well to his numerous medicines. His fur is starting to grow back where it had fallen out, and his appetite has increased to levels that make me feed him a little less. He is still slow on his walks, and barely managed an hour yesterday. Then again, neither did I, having to sit on a bench and stare at the river for a good ten minutes of that hour.
Wherever you live, and whatever you are doing, I wish you a peaceful Sunday.