Round 2

Medicine by trial and error. If one thing doesn’t work try something else. Most people have no idea just how common this is; it’s the fault of patients, they are all made differently, with secrets in their genes and chemistry that make prediction very difficult. My current medication hasn’t worked at all (it is the same stuff they use for soldiers who have been exposed to a nerve agent, interestingly). Steroids are up next, but have the disadvantage that they dampen your immune system which means you are more open to infection (including Covid-19 of course). 

Ironically I felt fighting fit today and got on with a lot of stuff around the house and garden, including fitting new strip lights in the garage. These are modern metre long LEDs to replace the cranky old fluorescent tubes. The place lights up like a prison courtyard during a breakout attempt now, very bright and just what you want in a windowless environment.

Also finished reading the five Patrick Melrose novels today, which came in a single 875 page Picador edition. Very very good, and a bit scary because you know they are semi-autobiographical. The books are about the obnoxious British upper classes and cycle through child abuse in the sixties to rampant drug taking in the eighties; rehab in the nineties, followed by marriage, children and reconciliation through the nineties and in to the early twenty first century. Intellectually stunning in a somewhat over the top way (does anyone really talk like these people? Does anyone really quote Wittgenstein in conversation? Does it matter?[). The characters and events are so wild and horrifying that you don’t care; it’s a rollercoaster ridden by (or is that with?) some of the most unpleasant people you will ever meet - and full of quotable vitriol. Great stuff.

My attempt to go out for coffee was somewhat farcical. I hade a communication problem with a woman in Pret. I asked for an Americano with oat milk. "Black Americano" she yelled when it was ready. Confused I said "not black, with oat milk". "Yes" she said. ‘With oat milk". I praised the lid off and found it was black, and then realised where we were misunderstanding each other. She thought I had said ‘without milk" ...

Must be my slurred speech. Myasthenia can do that to you. 

Then I tried to sit in a restricted area and got chucked out. Then I sat somewhere else and banged my head on a brass pendant lamp which made a loud "bong’ and everyone looked at me. And the coffee was rubbish. 

I did have a wonderful experience in my local wood co-operative, run by volunteers. They found me a beautiful bit of timber to use for a kitchen shelf which they are cutting to size, sanding down and oiling for me. Twenty quid the lot. That cheered me up.

Good day.