Since I came to terms with the concept of having terminal cancer my main distraction from facing into reality has been booking trips.  And making trips.

My only overseas journey left is Australia.  And that’s at severe risk.  And that risk is stopping me booking other trips involving flights.

Granted, I’ve been able to do a couple of pyjama days where tumour pain was extreme.  Getting to Anglesey was a good escape, even if I did face into my realities a bit while there.  And normal Saturday’s with Chris being restored as I return from travels is good news.

Football dominates and has led to a first class booking for next Saturday.  My disabled railcard kindly knocking a third off the first class fare from Manchester to Bletchley.  First class, because I can and because it only adds £8 each to each leg of the trip.

Bletchley being somewhere close to Stadium MK, hone of the team that shouldn’t really exist, MK Dons.  Hopefully our record of been twice, lost twice will be improved.

I’m also trying to keep myself social.  Lunch dates with numerous former friends and colleagues. I’ll get over to see my Dad, possibly this week.  And I need to organise a trip to Wiltshire to feed some tigers.

Whatever my flying limitations, it does seem I can create enough things to do without straining myself too much and deflecting my thoughts away from excessive focus on silly little things like not being alive.

A morphine tablet seems to have minimised last night’s thigh pain too.  I’ll try without tonight to see if there’s any improvement.

The Thigh at Night