Thursday 19th September

My GP telephones me just before I am about to put dinner on the table!

He wants to know how I am, how I am coping, whether the pain and swelling are getting me down, and whether I am sleeping properly. He is genuinely concerned, and is sorry for all I am going through.

We discuss my return to work, and he is adamant that I must wait until at least I’ve had my appointment with the plastic surgeon in Exeter, on 4th October. In fact he says he will write a sick note for eight weeks, taking me into November. However, if I’m up to it, I can return to work sooner. He also agrees to prescribe me some sleeping pills.

Maybe at last I can sleep through the night without waking up only to stare at the dark ceiling, thinking dark thoughts about this dark disease.