A Broken Heart

I’ve had a few months of recuperation, self care and therapy. I was diagnosed rather suddenly with severe heart failure in March, after having a few weeks of deterioration which we put down to other things. Now, I attack each day with the disturbing rattle of a cacophony of narcotics which keep me alive. I am monitored daily by my watch which shouts at me to stand up, and drink and take tablets at the appropriate times. I shall write down my experiences of hospital one day, as they seem to me to be quite funny and entertaining. Perhaps even a play or a book will come out of it? I am back at work now, but a more streamlined me physically is working in a more streamlined way mentally. Everything feels pretty good but perhaps that is from the perspective of someone who had a narrow escape from the icy clutches of my lookalike in a cowl? Writing stopped for a while. It’s started again now, and for some reason, it is more enjoyable. I’m not complaining about any of this though. This last year has taken too many lives, ruined too many peoples health and livelihoods. I’m lucky. Patched up, a little broken, but on the mend and lucky.