I slept better last night. Certainly better than if I’d been a Monarch customer or back in Vegas.
Most of the time I can sleep on my back. But sometimes the nasty intruder on my buttock flares up.
At some point in the early hours I manged to lift my quite heavy body over to its front. When I woke again it was 8.00am. My face was in my pillow. My left arm straight down the side of my body. My feet hanging off the end of the fed any my right arm, bizarrely, across my chest crushed by the not inconsiderable weight.
As I slowly unwound myself I pondered painkillers. And realised that, this morning at least, I didn’t need any.
I am probably best making my first appearance in oncology with a walking stick this lunch time.