Today and Tomorrow.

Today’s visit to the hospital proved to be a somewhat difficult, dispiriting, lengthy and perplexing experience, and I returned rather later than I had thought likely. It was very nearly dark by the time I got home and the daily business of replenishing the birds’ feeding facilities only added further impetus to a mood already made sombre by a conscientious cardiology registrar and an overly busy hospital pharmacy. Tasks normally performed in daylight were rendered awkward by the requirement to possess three hands – two to perform the basic operations and another to hold the lamp. Being a typically symmetrical human being, I only have two.

The mood did not deepen when I shone the lamp into the mailbox by my front door and saw deposited there a letter bearing the words ‘Private and Confidential.’ ‘Deepen’ would be an understatement. It crashed. Here is a letter from the hospital, I thought, and there is no reason to think that it can refer to anything other than my recent CT scans. Furthermore, its being so prompt after the procedure can only mean one thing: this is a call to attend an interview with a consultant to be informed that either chemotherapy or curtains is imminent. I continued to do my duty by the birds, and then collected the letter to be read indoors.

It wasn’t from the hospital as I imagined, but from the credit card company informing me of my monthly debits and credits and resultant balance. Some sense of relief was in order, as you might imagine, but tomorrow is another day and another day might still bring with it the dreaded missive. That’s how life is at the moment and the situation is becoming tedious.

Meanwhile, the old dark rider who has been prowling around since the matter of the cancerous kidney nearly four years ago has been joined by a companion. This one concerns himself with matters of the heart – not the one which speaks fondly to attractive young nurses and sallow-skinned pharmacy assistants with chocolate voices – but the physical one which gives life to our mortal vehicle. He waits patiently for the verdict from two further procedures to which today’s visit have committed me. They will determine whether the dear old organ has the means to sustain its host without assistance, or whether the attention of those trained in such matters will be necessary. For the time being, I now have a fourth medication to augment my ratting habit.

Are you getting all this?

The house is colder tonight than it was last night. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow…

Life goes on for now.