January saw me making plans. I was sorting out my will and pension. I was booking trips eleven months ahead. It was a good distraction that served its purpose. Even if my month eleven trip proved to be a journey too far.
In my head the intention for now was to carry on travelling in 2018. But not to book so far ahead. Thinking next week, not months down the line.
Getting months out of an afatinib drug the should have given me over two years is a blow that still hangs over me. Jeff Lynne’s ELO are touring next autumn. Normal instinct would be to snap up the tickets. Current instinct is not to bother. How will I be with crowds that far down the line? How mobile will I be? A little bit of will I even exist?
Anyway, while Jeff plays his greats he’s only on stage ninety minutes. It is an uplifting occasion that allows people of a certain age to get home long before bedtime. It’s fabulous. But not quite Springsteen.
I’m also stuck not wanting to carry out key tasks. I’ve decided to leave my end of life care to chance. I don’t know when the time will hit so I can hardly book two weeks in a local hospice now. I do fear not being able to live in my rented room/home. So far my landlord has suggested I could live downstairs which houses two bedrooms. He’s a good man.
There’s also funeral planning and while I made a will earlier this year I’ve not given my sister any practical pointers as to where my declining stash of cash actually is. These are conversations that are probably needed but I’m still keen to defer. Like who’s going to update my Facebook status with “he’s a goner, TFFT” kind of message?
Planning anything beyond my next couple of months is pretty much a no. But I need to be careful not to have nothing planned. Plymouth Argyll away by train, just before Christmas, is a motivator for me. A long day out with Chris to a football stadium we’ve never visited. Oh, and back to Anglesey with Rachel the week after my birthday in January.
I’ll make a big investment decision in January too. Will I chuck £30,000 into a pension? It moves the money away from my reach until I get to the unlikely age of 55. But I was taxed heavily on redundancy. So recovering that tax through pension relief will mean more for the kids to inherit. And less for me to spend.
Finnair would be taking me to Helsinki on Friday. Ahead of the flights to Sydney. A little wave of regret over not making it. At least I’ll get to the football this weekend.
Hopefully I can shift some of these minor ailments, reduce my medical appointment levels and get out on the road for another trip soon.