Blood, Urine and Ink

14/02/23 10:37 

I’m in a library.  In Gants Hill.  Waiting to have a blood test.  On Valentine’s Day. I’ve already posted my urine sample, ten minutes prior to writing this.  I’m struggling to write.  That’s nothing to do with these tests; that’s all to do with my pre-diabetes and the doctor’s attempt to get me back on anti-coagulant tablets.  I’m meant to still be on these ever since my stroke back in November 2012.  It was a year afterwards that I stopped taking them, once my test results came back and they decided I didn’t have a reason for having the stroke.  Which is now also being debated,  I was told originally it was a TIA.  Then a mini-stroke.  Now it’s back to a TIA.  Even though the medical profession did pretty much next to nothing.  Except duplicate a test because they didn’t know they’d already done it six weeks earlier.  It was about this time I started to have concerns about the efficiency of our National Health Service.  A&E are still generally amazing, but with the bigger things, I find you have to be lucky enough to get the right people on board.  Which is a shame.  But it’s nice that I get to self-diagnose and inform them of the medication I require. 

Anyways, I’m finding it difficult to write because my wrist is cold and locking up quite a bit.  

With 17 days remaining until we hit the Eurostar again, my training for the half marathon is practically non-existent.  I’m not too worried.  As long as I can get the pace right at the beginning, I’ll be fine.  And that’s reliant on the playlist, the weather and the adrenalin.  I’m hoping for a 9:30 per mile but real expectations start at the ten-minute mark.  Either way, I want the medal and t-shirt.  And a nice meal afterwards, probably around the hotel once we get our luggage for the return journey. 

I’ve managed to maintain my ‘story a day’ on Instagram and even posted my very first reel.  I’m in 3 of the little photos that run alongside Ashley Park’s Mon Soleil from Emily in Paris.  That girl’s voice is amazing – as mentioned in a previous post (the one where I review the first season). 

I know I won’t be writing in Paris, but I should top up the pens again soon.  That said, I think I’m working my way through cartridges at the minute.  For some reason, they don’t evaporate as quickly.  The bonus being I continue to refill them with bottled ink.  I also must try and crack on with the long back at some point.  As long as my wrist doesn’t start to arthritically seize up…  

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