Giving Birth to Small Cats

I'm sure you want to know this, I've cut down on the codeine and as a result am now much more regular...mind you, yesterday, the first poo for two days, I thought I was going to need stitches.

So, with this in mind, I'm spending much more quality time in the downstairs loo contemplating life. I've started using the crutches which I can't do without wearing a shoe...other ankle is pretty much completely fucked as well. I have the balance of an particularly doddery octogenarian so I have to wear a boot on the right foot, otherwise my progress on the crutches tends to make strong men wince and Helen and Ocean give birth to small cats...I've completely lost the thread, what the copulation was I talking about?... ah yes, downstairs loo.

So more time spent in downstairs loo with concomitant reduction in faint smell of piss around my bed :-) This morning I was visited by a sudden urgent need to see a brown friend off to the sea. This is a slightly complicated operation, grab boot and apply to right foot, shuffle to end of bed, grab crutches, hobble to loo, hop around on one foot whilst divesting myself of underwear, do business...thank the lord no stitches needed this time, stand up...on one foot...to wash hands.

It was at this point I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and realised that I appear to have morphed into Harry Potter's dissolute, possibly alcoholic Uncle...see what I mean...

Yes this is a picture of me in the mirror, and yes I do know how to take a selfie, and no, I have no idea why I didn't take a selfie so don't ask ;-)




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