Shrinking.

I feel too out of sorts to make a normal post tonight, just a note on a startling revelation I received when I took my first shower in my own bathroom after coming out of hospital. I saw myself in my accustomed mirror for the first time in a week and I was horrified to see things I’ve never seen in my life before.

I saw light folds of skin under my cheekbones where my cheeks have sunk and become gaunt. I saw flimsy, wrinkled little arms which used to wrestle bigger men than me to the ground on the rugby pitch, but which would now have trouble wrestling the average tomcat off my armchair. Worst of all, I saw my ribs showing through the skin at the top of my chest. And to make matters even more disturbing, my abdomen remains distended as a result of the operation. I have become a stick man with a belly.

This rapid weight loss has all happened over the past three months, no doubt brought on by that nasty little cancer in one of my kidneys. I gather cancers are greedy creatures and take more energy from the body than they should be entitled to take. Maybe that black dog which leaped out of my bedroom wall back in November is getting fat as a result. Sorry, little canine, but I want it back please. And soon.

This post needs a JJ joke, but I can’t think of one at present.