Last week, my father explained to us his strategy for remaining healthy. When you don't think about it, he told us, the symptoms just go away. My brother sighed and later on, long after my father had driven away in his big silver car, we agreed that while he is doing quite well - considering his rapid weight loss and the blue-black bruises on his hands and shins - he must be scared shitless. Don't mention the d-word, my sister added. Not allowed.
Meanwhile, it seems that sitting seven hours in a comfortable air-conditioned car, looking at other cars, trees, hills, rivers, wind turbines and distant church steeples, while R drove skillfully and generally not too fast - it seems that this was the most exhausting thing. So much so that I am reduced to lounging on horizontal surfaces, trying not to fall asleep. My latest lab report has arrived and I am completely healthy apart from one or two things. Nevertheless. Oh that word. Nevertheless, I have received orders for more tests and whatnot's. One of which took place early this morning and because I was only half awake, this carefree version of myself hopped on my bicycle for the half hour journey along the gorgeous river. By the time I got home, well let's say, I was not my usual youthful self. Oh dear. I had completely forgotten about that business with my lungs. Still, I am confident, sort of, that there is a plan B yet to be discovered because, no way will I give up cycling. No. Way.
It helps, massively, to remember that less than two days ago, we swam in
this glacial lake, morning, noon and evening.
