Woke up, got outa bed.....

Dragged a comb across my head....

Well, no. Not exactly.

Fell asleep on the settee. When I awoke this morning, full of the joys of spring ( loike yer do), swung my left leg over, and....

Hello floor, my old friend. Then I remembered. Sigh.

Me and my mate Floor are old mates. Been with other through thick and thick. Me and my forehead have.

To be blunt, it's a bit of a bugger. In my dreams, I head down that steep hill, leap, and I'm flying until I decide to land. Fair enough, the flying bit is a bit unrealistic. It's just annoying to be reminded that I don't like grounds. Hights don't bother me. Grounds do. I get annoyed at being reminded.

If I could find a way of kicking the s*** out of my right leg without falling over sometimes, I would.

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I was listening to the missus talking about her great uncle, in his 70's, today. Single. Right sided stroke. Lives alone. Had his one and only stroke 12 years ago. Has carers visit twice a day, off to a care home a couple of days every couple of weeks. He pays for them. He's able to talk near-enough normally now. His carer's, who he employs, refuse to have cans in the house that need a tin opener. In case the poor souls cut themselves. Health and Safety, apparently.

He eats when they say. He has to be in bed by 8pm, because that's the latest they'll visit. Any other care is given by his daughter, who's married with kids.

Maybe I'm spoilt, because I'm a family man. I insist on being the head of my family, which seems to be an old fashioned idea nowadays. So I'm constantly involved in my world, and constantly stimulated. I'm convinced that's what keeps my head above water.

Since then, I've talked to someone who drives, wears a neck support, who also gets the same treatment from employed carers.


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