Blood Work*

“So, how are you doing?” My doctor says, sitting back in her chair, swivelling it to face me.  Her long chestnut hair swings as she turns.  She can’t be much older than me.  In a different world, she could be the patient and I could be the successful young doctor, I think.

“Well, I’m not doing that well,” I say.  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.  My mood is still low after six months and I’m having constant flashbacks to Seb breaking up with me, and I’m dreading going back to work and…well, I’ve had about eight operations in the last couple of years and I feel that it’s hit me all at once and…”

“You have had a bad time of it,” she says, her voice soft with sympathy.

“So I was wondering if I could have some blood tests to see if I’ve got a deficiency of something,” I say.  “Although I can’t have them in either arm because I’ve had all my nodes out and…”

“So where have you had them?” She says, looking puzzled.

“I haven’t had any blood tests since I had the nodes out on my left side,” I say.  “Had the flu injection in my leg so…”

“Let’s have a look at your foot,” she says.

Taking off my boot and sock, I show her my foot.

“Right,” she says.  “Make an appointment with me and I’ll try to get some blood out of your foot. We’ll test for everything: Vitamin D, thyroid function, liver function, blood count.”

“Thank you very much,” I say, walking out to reception to make an appointment, the panther stalking behind me.

So have made an appointment for next Friday to get the bloods done.

Other achievements of the day:

1.  Push self hard at training: see attached photo.

2.  Walk to gym and from station to parentals: 30 minutes.

3.  Walk to and from Doctor: 40 minutes.

4.  Body Scan meditation and sleep.

5.  Cuddle the fluffy monster.  Here he is:


Look at those huge furry back paws.

Now we’re going to watch Autumnwatch before supper.

Happy Friday everyone!
*1998.  By Michael Connelly.  The first Terry McCaleb detective novel.

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