Archives: Friends

I’ve had a brilliant day today, taken up mostly with a mammoth 4-hour meeting with Suze and Rheya about the MKT show this April.

The show, which is going to be in aid of the Cystic Fibrosis Trust, will be something of a gala performance for the Activ8 Youth Theatre, with whom Suze and I have worked (on-and-off on my part) for the last 5-6 years.  We’ve never had the opportunity to start with such carte blanche as we’ve been given here, and it’s fantastic – if a little daunting.

The Youth Theatre have been lucky in the past if they secured a single performance date in a 12-month period, so to have this show coming so quickly off the back of the summer show is exciting in and of itself, but to have such free reign to make the most of our stage time is a fantastic opportunity for all the children and young people involved.

So far, we’re looking at doing devised pieces for the youngest three groups, and then a combination of devised, scripted and new-writing pieces with the oldest group – who have mostly been with us for a long time and will no doubt be raring to display the many facets of stage-craft they’ve had the chance to develop working with a practitioner as accomplished and, let’s face it, off-the-wall as Suze.

Today’s meeting was spent hammering out exactly what each group would be doing – allowing for the fact that the rehearsal process is sure to kick up a few new challenges and options on the way – and also going over a few storylines for some of the devised pieces which needed solidifying before we past them back to the groups to continue working.

The groups have already been working on some of the stuff that will be incorporated into the performance in the last term, but the ideas they’ve developed will all be picked up and run with over the course of the next 10 weeks leading up to the show.  The idea is that we’ll be using familiar material but probe deeper into it to make sure we’re challenging them to come up with something that will push them and make the most of the showcase they’ve been offered.

I’m most excited about the fact that I’m due to return to rehearsals on Wednesday and Suze has offered me the opportunity to write part of the show and to direct a separate section with some of the older group involved.  It’s been so long since I’ve directed anything from scratch that I’m REALLY looking forward to it and can’t wait to get going.

The section I’m working on is an amalgam of scenes from Hamlet and Tom Stoppard’s Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead – a show I’ve always wanted to direct in its entirety.

I have to confess I’ve been a little on the tired side after our enormous brain-storming/planning session, but I feel so jazzed at the thought of being part of this show.  It’s wonderfully exciting to be working with the groups towards something that will really show their families and, hopefully, the wider community, what they are capable of doing.

Tickets are available NOW from the Milton Keynes Theatre box office 0870 060 6652 (with a booking fee) or online here. (plug, plug)

In other news: my new BlackBerry arrived today, too!!  After all my to-ing and fro-ing with O2 (the phone company, not the oxygen people), I managed not only to secure a free upgrade to the BlackBerry, but also to upgrade my call plan to double the minutes (400) and ten times the texts (1,000) per month for the same money.  And I only wanted the phone….

Unfortunately, since it arrived I’ve been castigated by K after spending all morning and half the afternoon in a meeting for then getting so wrapped up in my new toy that I’ve hardly paid any attention to her all day. 

I’d like to make a witty-yet-cutting riposte to show her that she’s completely in the wrong and I’m smugly in the right as usual, but I really can’t defend myself on this one, so I’m going to slope off and use my apologetic face.

EMILY UPDATE: For those of you still keeping tabs on Em (of which I know there are tons) she’s still doing well.  She’s still on the vent for the moment, but her family say things are looking good for now.  Thanks to you all for your love, prayers and support – I know they’re greatly appreciated. 

EMILY UPDATE:

As updated on Friday, Emily came through the surgery well and is currently in intensive care.  They made an attempt to wean her off her ventilator today, but she didn’t take to it too well and has been sedated again.  This isn’t a major issue, as it is quite common for the de-ventilation (as it were) to take a little while, what with the mixture of sedation, pain meds and new cocktails of anti-rejection drugs.  She has become slightly more awake and alert at points and is showing good signs of her old bubbly personality in flashes, so things are looking cautiously optimistic at the moment.

As for me, well, the last two days have been pretty up and down.

One of the weirdest things at the moment is how other people seem to think that I’d be really adversely affected by Em’s transplant – perhaps expecting me to be jealous or angry, the old “why not me?” chestnut.

But the truth is, I don’t feel anything like that at all.  I’m completely overwhelmed with joy for Em and her family and devoted boyfriend – I couldn’t be happier for them all, and especially seeing such a close friend going through what we’ve both been hoping for for the last two years.  It feels odd, because there’s a part of me that thinks I should be feeling some pangs of jealousy or upset, but it just isn’t there.

It has made me think a lot more about my own transplant, but actually in a much more positive light.  I have to confess that I have had moments, particularly over the last few weeks leading up to Christmas, where I have been doubting my conviction that this will come for me, and I still don’t like to hear people talk about it with such certainty in their voices. 

But I know that Em has been through patches like me as well – particularly in the summer when she had an exceptionally bad spell and was touch-and-go for a while, and we spoke about it afterwards.  And I know that although she had her doubts, she never lost faith and never stopped fighting, right up to her call.  She’s set a kind of positive-thinking example to me and perked up not only my enthusiasm, but also my previously rigid belief that this will come for me too.

Secretly, I also have to admit I’m quite pleased she got in there first, because she’ll now be on hand to help talk me through all the relevant stages of post-op recuperation as I come across them!

The last few days have been a bit rubbish for me, though, since I’ve started to feel really sick after my evening meal for the last three nights in a row now and the pattern is becoming a little disturbing.

The first night, on Friday, I had a horrible moment of thinking I was coming down with the same virus that hit K on Christmas day and that has slowly been working its way through her family.  But so far I’ve not actually been sick.

Another theory that struck me yesterday was that, having spent two afternoons back at the flat trying to get it ship-shape before we aim to move back in over the next couple of weeks, all the dust and stuff we’d been kicking up has upset my chest and made me more productive, which in turn I’ve been coughing up and swallowing a lot – causing not-too-goodness in my stomach.

Although that seemed a plausible explanation yesterday, it seems less so today, when I’ve done nothing but chill out at my ‘rents.  And it also doesn’t explain why it’s only in the evenings, either.

It’s not too bad, just annoying that I can’t seem to eat in the evenings without feeling like I’m going to hurl for a couple of hours afterwards.  It goes off slowly over the course of the evening, but it’s not very pleasant to have to put up with.

Still, things could be worse and my chest is still doing very well a week into the New Year.  I’m waking up every morning with lots of energy and get-up-and-go and I’m hopeful of a successful move back to the flat in the coming week or so, which will be lovely not just for K and me, but doubtless for Mum and Dad, too.

So next week is a chance to start focusing back on work, with the start of a new term at MKT and a show to build towards, as well as time to start turning my attention to the next issue of CF Talk.  And then, of course, there’s all my writing projects, too….

I’ve just this minute had a text message from a friend (the other half of the Live Life Then Give Life team) to say that Em has gone down to theatre for her transplant at Harefield.

Words can truly not express what I’m feeling at the moment – I’ve been through a lot with Emily over the last 12-18 months and we’ve both come across new challenges around the same time as each other (although I have to say I’ve been the lucky one and had things an awful lot easier).

Almost precisely two years ago, Em was told she had a year left to live – she’s been close to losing her battle on at least two occasions but has never given up fighting and believing that her Tx would come.

And now it has and I’m delirious for her – it’s just unbelievable.

But it’s not all plain sailing from here – she’s going to have a lot more fighting to do over the coming few days and weeks to get through and out the other side to where she can finally enjoy the rush of fresh air into her new lungs. 

So I’ll ask all of you out there reading this, whether it’s tonight, tomorrow morning or any time in the next few days to say a prayer or two for her and help her in her fight.

Em, you’re a legend and I couldn’t be happier!

UPDATE:

I’ve been told that Emily has come through surgery with apparent flying colours (Em does everything with flying colours.  It’s not worth doing if it’s not colourful, mainly pink!).

She’s now out and in intensive care – her family have seen her and she’s doing well although obviously she’s still critical at this stage.  Please keep praying and keep her strong to fight through and come out the other side.

I think I might have cracked it.  Not in a bad, going-to-need-to-replace-it kind of way, in an it’s-about-time-you-silly-arse kind of way.

First of all, big Happy New Year to one and all – hope you had a good night’s celebrations and woke up later on the 1st without too much of a fuzzy head and swirly stomach.  Being the paragon of virtue that I am, I was enjoyable tee-total (or is that tea-total) all night and felt super when I woke up.  So bleh to you! (I don’t know how you spell the noise you make when you stick your tongue out at someone…)

But most excitingly, I’ve managed to get through all of the weekend’s festivities and back into normal life with no kind of a chest-related hangover whatsoever – how brilliant is that?

Not only did I save up enough energy on the 31st to have a really good night with S&S and the big C at the Lodge, but I lasted the course of a day with my Godson and family yesterday too.

Sunday night was great fun – just the 5 of us chilling out, chatting, laughing and watching the Hootenanny on the telly.  I love the Hootenanny, mostly just because it has a totally brilliant name.  Hootenanny has to be one of the best words in the whole language.  And it is totally fitting for some kind of party!

Come midnight we all hugged and danced (some more energetically than others) and decided we were knackered and ran away to bed.

Monday was another cracking day of fun and frolics with my Godson, his Mum and Dad and bro.  We played Uno and I lost by a lot, we played Game of Life and I lost by a little less, then after our second meal of the day – don’t you just love those days when you have a huge roast dinner and then come back later in the afternoon to finish off the leftovers and clear out the fridge with some lovely crusty bread and pickles and cheese and other wonderful delights? – we played Game of Life again and I won.  I didn’t mean to, I sort of did it by accident.

The whole thing was interspersed with an hour’s break in the middle when the two Dad’s took the young’uns off for a walk around the lake and I laid on the bed with Neve strapped on resting myself up for the 2ns half of the day.  It worked brilliantly – just as I was beginning to flag, my mini-break, semi-nap set me up for the rest of the day perfectly.

The best part of the whole weekend, though, without a doubt (aside from all the great bits) was waking up this morning feel fresh, energised and ready to tackle the day.  Not a single sentence of moany-ness from my chest and not a moment of complaint throughout the day.

I’m so happy it’s really rather silly and I’m aware of how fragile it all can be, but I can’t think of a better way to start the New Year than to realise that I’ve worked out the limits of my ever-changing body.

I know I tend to push myself too hard and usually too fast, but it’s fantastic to know where I can push myself to and to be able to recognise when I need to stop, take a breath or three and stop myself being silly.

Those of you who’ve been with me from the start will know that this whole escapade began with me searching for an understanding of the boundaries that were newly rearranged around my ever-more-protesting blowers, and to finally find something of an answer, or at least a vague level of comprehension, feels wonderful.

So now it’s time to turn my attention to more long-term and practical goals, and see what I can’t achieve with my year before Harefield get on the phone to offer me my part-exchange.

Anyone got anything they need me to do that involves sitting at a desk and preferably being creative, you know where to find me.

For now, I’m off to get my 10 hours sleep to make sure tomorrow goes just as well.

Happy New Year everyone, bring on the next challenge!

I’m still pretty impressed at myself just now for not pushing too hard and doing too much.  The nebs seem to be doing their jobs and keeping me fairly clear, and I’m sticking to the O2 all the time when I’m not using Neve.

Yesterday I had a FANTABULOUS couple of hour tour of Borders – Christmas voucherage always being a good reason to get out and about.  The best thing about Borders, among all the other best things it has, is that even in the height of the new-season sales, when the car park is full to bursting, the store’s so big it doesn’t feel busy at all.

Apart from finally getting to enjoy some proper browsing time – and by “proper”, I mean time enough to look around, then grab a book and sit and read the interesting bits that you want to read and put it back on the shelf when you’ve garnered all the useful info from it – it also served as the first time I’ve properly worn my oxygen out in the big wide world.

Those of you who were around early on in this blog may remember my difficulties coming to terms with the idea of venturing out and about with my O2 on and my reluctance to do so.  I still don’t think it’s entirely gone away, but I reasoned with myself that if I was going to be spending a couple of hours in the shop, it would be really silly of me to think I could do it unaided.  Especially when I’m doing everything else I can to make sure I look after myself and don’t take huge steps backwards.

So I grabbed one of the light-weight cylinders and trotted off with Dad and K to explore the store and we all had a whale of a time.  It was brilliant flitting between shelves, digesting bits of books, moving around and sticking my nose into all sorts of sections I wouldn’t normally look at.

I think we all struggled with not spending heaps of cash, but I did managed to spend the vouchers K’s bro and his family gave me, which was cool, netting myself Inside Little Britain (which I’m ripping through at pace) and a book about Max Clifford that I’ve wanted for a while.

The rest of the last two days have been spent very sensibly doing little-to-nothing in order to save my energy for the weekend ahead.  Tomorrow night for New Year, I’m hoping to bee able to make it over to a house-party S&S are holding at the Lodge. 

The plan at the moment is to chill out for the day and catch a late-afternoon nap in order to get up and over there for around 10pm, which should give me a couple of hours party time, followed by midnight and a bit of wind-down before scooting home.

New Year’s day I have my Godson coming over, which will be brilliant, but again very tiring, so I’m forcing myself to stay in bed for the morning and do plenty of physio while resting as much as possible so I can make the most of the afternoon with him.

This is going to be a major test of my stamina-planning ability and may have a massive impact on my decision as to whether or not I can try to phase a return to work in the near future.  What I’m hoping is that if I prove to myself I can manage my fatigue, then I will be able to take myself to work for a couple of hours on a Wednesday night to work with the oldest group. 

So I’m looking forward to the dawning of the New Year, with the feelings of energy and hope that it always brings, and I’m hoping that my planning and self-discipline holds out for the weekend and I come out of it tired but positive.

Here goes nothing….

Since I started this blog in late November, I don’t think I’ve gone three consecutive days without posting, but I figure I’m allowed a mini-holiday over the Christmas break, if for no other reason than nobody’s likely to be reading it anyway, unless they got a new laptop for Christmas and are testing out their Wi-Fi.

 This year’s celebrations have been entirely in keeping with the whole of 2006 before it: a total roller-coaster.

Christmas Eve was a wonderful day of chilling out and seeing friends.  In fact, over the previous two days I’d caught up with a good number of friends, some of whom I’ve not seen for a while and some of whom I haven’t seen as much as I should recently.

On Christmas Eve two of my oldest friends came round to see me, which was unbelievably cool.  All three of us are really quite rubbish at staying in touch, but whenever we do manage to meet up we have the best giggle and always pick up right from where we left off – something which I think marks out a true friendship amongst the ranks of acquaintances we make as we go through life.

It was brilliant to catch up with them and find out what they’ve been up to, although I always find it hard to update people on how things have been going for me.  Luckily, the more tech-savvy of the two of them has been reading the blog, so she was pretty clued up and had, I’m guessing, filled in our techno-phobe friend on the drive over.  It’s difficult to talk about how you’re feeling when it changes so often and talking about how hard thigs have been can be a really downer on any conversation.

We had a great few hours chatting, laughing and generally messing around.  They’re both doing really well and always seem to energise me creatively when I see them.  They’re both actresses and talking to them always reminds me of the passion I have for writing, performance, theatre and film – they always inspire me.

Things started to go awry that evening, though, when K woke up at midnight and spent the next 12 hours hugging the toilet.  A few of our friends and relatives have had a vomiting virus over the last week or so and our next door neighbour had it on Christmas Eve.  Her husband and son came over in the evening and that must have been where K picked it up from.

Once she had stabilized enough to not be sick for 30-40 minutes at a time, Mum ran her back home in order to keep her quarantined away from me.  One thing I really can’t afford right now is to go 24 hours without eating, and any kind of a bug is bad news, but it was horrible to have to separate ourselves after all the planning we’d done to get through Christmas together.

What that meant, of course, is that our Christmas plans were totally shot.  I think K was more upset about it than anyone, but it was really hard to be without her on Christmas Day.  That’s now 2 Christmases in a row she’s been laid up in bed, and we had wanted so badly to celebrate together.  It also marked our first 6 months together.

We did what we could to make the most of the rest of the day and carried on as normal as possible, down to just the 4 of us in our family unit again.  It was really nice, actually, but having been up all night with K, I was completely shattered.  I slept for nearly three hours in the afternoon and then we went up the road to a friend’s for Christmas dinner.

It was a really lovely meal and we all had a lot of laughs, but after a couple of hours I was past my stamina levels and had to get Mum to bring me home.  They all stayed on and played games and drank copious amounts, while I chilled on the sofa with my Christmas DVDs.

Things picked up again yesterday, when K had managed to keep some food down and was really just struggling with energy levels from having had no food the day before.  She managed to come over to join us with Dad’s sister and her Gang in tow.

We always have a fab time when my Aunt comes down – our two families are so similar in sense of humour and shared piss-taking that there is almost endless laughter whenever we’re together. 

Three days of busy-ness were really taking their toll by the evening though and my chest was tight and protesting at over-working.  We had a second-mini Christmas to share presents with K – we’d saved all the presents to her and from her to open when she was with us.

By 9pm I was beyond shattered and had to take myself up to bed, where I promptly fell asleep by 10pm and slept almost completely solidly through until 10am this morning – my body is getting much better at taking the required rest when it needs it.

This morning, my chest is still protesting a little, and I know a good few physio sessions are going to be called for, as well as a full-on sofa-day to let my body recover properly from the stresses of the last few days.

I’m really impressed with how I held up over Christmas actually.  It was a lot tougher than I expected it to be, but looking back it was bound to be difficult as I was fitting more into 3 days than I done over the previous 2 weeks, so to expect it all to be plain sailing was perhaps wishful thinking.

Now it’s time to start planning energy-saving for New Year so I can make it to midnight to welcome in 2007 – the year of the Transplant.

Today’s been a really good day for me and I’m really pleased with myself for it, too. 

Yesterday, apart from slumming it on the sofa trying to urge my chest pains to go away, I spent the afternoon writing another article for the Guardian’s Comment is Free site – this time about Transplantation.

Em and Em, the partners in crime behind Live Life Then Give Life (from whom you should all have bought a T-shirt, not to mention signed up to the Organ Donor Register), organised another big publicity push for Christmas, which I sadly missed out on because of all my recent email hiccups and account confusions.

So, in order to still be doing my part, I mentioned the campaign to the guy who’d contacted me about writing my previous article to see if he was interested.  He said he was, so I spent the afternoon writing up a general summary of the status of transplant in the country and the various different systems around the world.

What I’m most pleased about it that he particularly wanted to stir up a bit of debate about the subject and if you go and check out the article online (here), you’ll find a lively exchange in the comments section underneath, which is really good to see.  Except maybe for the comment about my hair…

After being in the study working all afternoon, my chest was protesting a little again so I stayed on the sofa watching a movie in the evening and headed to bed at a sensible time. 

Better than anything was the fact that I got myself comfortable (not always possible with chest pains) and slept solidly through until 11am this morning – 12 hours sleep being something I’ve not enjoyed for as long as I can remember.  It was blissful to wake up and discover I’d been out like a light all night.  And it’s really recharging, too.

What I’m most pleased with today, though, is that I’ve stayed true to my promise to chill for the next few days before Christmas and have done very little again today.  I’ve been massively helped by the fact that I’ve had friends round to see me most of the day, which is good for sitting on the sofa chatting and not having to move or do other things.

But I’ve also been really good at doing physio sessions and stopping myself from “popping out” or sitting in the study at the computer for too long, or at the table in the kitchen reading the paper – all of which have a tendency to put extra strain on my chest and induce pain here and there.

Fingers crossed, I’ll be able to carry my discipline over to tomorrow, when I’ve got a little more planned, but am hoping that when I’m not out of the house, I’ll either be in bed or on the sofa doing nothing at all.  And K’s back from her parents’ tomorrow afternoon, so she’ll be around to police me.

MUCH better day today, as I was sure it would be.  Well, semi-sure.

But my body’s been decidedly responsive and I’ve managed to pass through an entire day with remarkably high energy-levels and not very much in the way of breathless episodes and other nastiness.

I slept pretty well, which is always a good start, and didn’t lie in bed too long this morning, which is something I’m increasingly persuaded is a bad thing in terms of momentum for the day.

This afternoon I ran K over to an appointment in Northampton and used the spare time to visit Suze, my partner in crime from MKT, from where I’ve sadly been completely AWOL for the entire term.  It was good to hear that all the work they’ve been doing is going fabulously well and that plans for the show in April are really rolling along.

I’m desperate to get back there and get my creative juices flowing again.  The workshops really energise me – working with kids and young people is so inspiring because of the way they see things and tackle problems.

One of the things I always fall back on when I tell people how great it is doing what I do is how much we can learn from children.  The most important thing in a 6 year-old’s life is whatever they happen to be doing at that moment in time, and that’s absolutely the way that we should all live out lives.

The trouble is as we get older, other stresses and worries crowd in and take over the freedom and innocence we enjoy as children and everything becomes more complicated.  But working with the younger groups at MKT has really helped me keep in touch with the old adage of living every day – and moment – for what it is, not what it could, should or has been.

The older groups at MKT simply serve to drive me forward creatively.  There’s nothing so powerfully motivating than seeing a group of people you’ve worked with for a long time learning and growing and expanding their experiences and outlooks on life, and to be challenged in your beliefs and understanding of the things around you. 

They push me to better understand myself and my ideas and to make sense of what I’m trying to communicate, to them or an audience or anyone else.

And working with Suzanne has given me the opportunity to be involved in a whole load of things in a whole load of capacities that I never would have had chance to do were it not for her faith and trust in me and what I can (or can’t) do.

Needless to say, I miss it mightily and I’m yearning to go back.  What’s fantastic about today is that having spoken to Suze and caught up on life, the universe and everything (sorry about the house!) it’s helped me to remember just how much I do want to still be part of what’s happening and it’s making me more determined than ever to get a grip on what my body’s doing and learn to play it properly so I can get myself back into sessions, even if it’s only for a couple of hours a week.

So today has also proved to myself that although bad days come along once in a while, but that they will always pass and be replaced by a good day.  I’m lucky in that it’s turned around quickly this time, but even in the blackest of nights it’s important to remember that there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel – and you know you’re going to get there in the end.

Here’s to April.

On my usual daily tour of my favourite websites today, I stopped in on my friend Em’s blog to discover the following paragraph, which so neatly encapsulated the to-ings and fro-ings of my mind and body at the moment I thought it silly to try to reword it to enlighten my readership and decided instead just to lift it wholesale and try to pass it off as my own.

“Sadly after 22 years I still don’t quite seem to have got my head round the concept of “improving” as opposed to “magically cured and reinstated with working lungs” and so the minute I feel a turn around I start jumping around and doing lots and then am surprised when said behaviour doesn’t go down well with my lungs which were (for want of a better phrase) breathing a sigh of relief that I was finally operating on a level they can maintain. I mentioned to my physio that you’d think I would have learned by now, she neatly sidestepped this remark by laughing politely and neglecting to comment.”

Sadly, my sense of duty and honour (and the knowledge that we have enough mutual friends for it to be highly unlikely that I wouldn’t get caught) meant I just couldn’t bring myself to fully commit to the stealthy liberation of the text.

I’d like to say my conscience was pricked by the knowledge that Em managed to write it from her hospital bed and went to all the trouble of emailing it to a friend and getting it posted for her, but I know if I did that then she’d eventually read this and send my huge screaming emails and numerous phone calls berating me for jumping on the pity band-wagon which we all so deplore.  Plus it’s also untrue, for that precise reason – pity is a trait all people should deplore. (Doesn’t that sound like a high school philosophy essay question? Pity is a trait all people should deplore: Discuss)

At the end of the day, when someone says what you want to say better than the way you wanted to say it, it’s best to hold your hands up and admit defeat than drive yourself barmy trying to best something that you can’t.

If you needed any proof of that, just take a look at what a complete and total load of waffle I’ve written trying to justify lifting a paragraph of a friend’s blog in order to help explain the challenges of getting back on your feet.

I think I should go and lie down.  Maybe this plagiarism lark is too heavy for me, after all.  Next time I’ll stick to my own drivel.

Another good day today, and another day of what economists term “positive growth” – although I have to say I wish that referred to my personal economics rather than the state of my chest.

Actually, I take that back – I’d take empty bank over knackered blowers any day of the week.  Still, it’s got to show how much things have improved over the last week or so that I can actually write half a paragraph complaining about lack of funds as opposed to anything health-related.  What a relief.  I think.

Having spent a week away from K, it’s been absolutely lovely to finally spend some time together yesterday and today.  She’s been so amazingly supportive and has been there for me all the way through and has also dealt superbly well with not being there when I needed it, which I know from personal experience isn’t an easy thing to do. 

While I’m on the subject of support, though, I’ve been blown away by all the messages of support I’ve had from people reading this blog – it really is something else. 

It’s a remarkable feeling to know that you’re loved and thought of by people all over the world (and it really has been from all over) and I want to say that every single one of your messages have made a huge difference in encouraging me and keeping me going when the times have got really tough recently.

As a side note, those of you who’ve been emailing me at my onetel account, I have to apologise for lack of responses, because I can’t access my emails from Mum and Dad’s.  I went back to the flat for the first time in a couple of weeks today and was there long enough to check my mail and discover a whole raft of messages to which I want to reply but didn’t have the time.  So please excuse my rubbishness, but I will get back to you, I promise!

As far as today goes, I’ve had a lovely day of chilling out and relaxing.  This morning, after sleeping in nicely till 11ish (caused mostly by poor sleep and drug-related tiredness), K and I were visited by S&S, no longer the newest double-team on the block, but happily still going strong. 

It’s been a while since I caught up with them, so it was good to have tea and chats and to humiliate myself with my awful knowledge of music while we channel-surfed through MTV, VH1, TMF, Q and other letters.

When they’d gone and we’d had a nice big bacon sarnie lunch with Mum and Dad, with super-fresh bakery bread, I did my drugs and caught a cat-nap before K and I ventured out in the car for a bit of a spin and stopped over at the flat, where I checked my mail and gathered a few bits and pieces to keep me occupied at home for tonight and the week ahead.

It was good to get out of the house properly for a bit and I was impressed at my discipline in again not pushing myself too far in trying to do too much. 

Our friends at The Lodge, including the aforementioned S&S, D and PS are throwing a Dirty C Word Hawaiin Luau at their place tonight, which I really wanted to pop my head into, not least because it was at least partly motivated as an opporunity for K to get out to.  But it would have been doing too much and I doubt I’d have managed to stay for just the quick “hi” and “bye” that I’d wanted to because I’d have had so much catching up and gossiping to do. 

Mum’s got all of her book group over for the night tonight, but I’m shutting myself away upstairs and being anti-social.  Although I get on well with Mum’s friends, I’m just not sure I’m up to maintaining conversation with big groups of people at the moment, so I thought it best to opt myself out of it and sequester myself in my room with Dad’s laptop on wi-fi and today’s papers to keep me occupied.

I’m sure I’ll soon have my Social Strength back up to full-speed, but like everything I’m working with at the moment, I’m trying not to take too big steps too quickly.  Slow and steady wins the race, as someone once said about something to someone. 

Profound, that.