under another sun

Up early, with Lorraine, who scuttled off early. Beth off for another day of flat clearing. I worked quietly in the morning, and then went to the gym. Did my usual round of lightish weights and then started on the cross trainer. After about four minutes stabbing chest pains began, which I put down to indigestion. After a few minutes of this I made myself rather alarmed, to the extent I climbed off the cross trainer and mooched towards my doctor's surgery which, now it has moved happens to be across the road. However by the time I got near its door I was fine, and then burped, curing everything. I went straight back to the gym feeling sheepish, and picked up where I left off.  Lorraine home a bit early today, and we had a nice chat before I travelled to Lewes on a windy night to the needle makers reading. There were four readers among them Clare Best, and Robert Hamberger, both of whom were excellent. Another chap read prose, and there was a woman reading the sort of poems I find...

Tired and listless and unable to focus this morning, so decided to go to the gym. After about twenty minutes on the cross trainer I suddenly felt very weary. Transferred to the rowing machine for five minutes and felt half dead. Spent the afternoon being a hypochondriac and in need of sleep. Not my finest hour. Lorraine in contrast feeling more relaxed and cheery which makes me very happy.

Up and off to having my fasting bloods done at 8:30. Lovely nurse at the surgery, and we shared stories of hypochondria and our deep love of flying, she's only got as far as Malta, which made me feel like a hairy chested adventurer. Then home to work on Balkan Dogs then I sauntered off to another medical centre to get my yellow fever jab. She asked me if I was well, and I confessed that I thought I had a temperature. She stuck a thermometer in my ear, and found I had a high one. You can't have a fever jab if you have a fever it seems so I slunk away unpricked, hoping the fever is over before Monday when I have another appointment. Feeling rather tired tonight, water, paracetamol and an early bed.

Up to London this afternoon, after working for my French amis , up to Chiswick to meet with the cheery Stephen and Matty boy to discuss the Christian charity and The Great Chad Adventure. Good to have some firmer details about this trip and very happy to learn that Matty is coming too, and I'll have a good friend with me. Also the trip will now last ten days not two weeks, we will be staying in hotels and there is a timetable of events, and a built-in recovery and acclimatisation day after we arrive. Curiosity and excitement over this trip are beginning to win out now that I know more. Then down to Strand on the Green for a cheery gathering of folks attached to the new agency in the City Barge. Some nice people and it was good to see First Matie again, who was looking very well, and see the little firecracker Yas and her excellent husband Tim. By now, however, I was feeling weirdly hot and decidedly wussy. I heard the call of the seagull, and left. By the time I reached Clapham J...

Under Saturn Up early to supervise the blokes taking away a dead sofa, bookcase, manky mattress and so on. Then noticed the liquid nails hadn't worked. I had placed heavy things on a piece of metal in the floor, and it simply sprang merrily back up after I took them off. Feeling curiously twitchy today. Adding itself to my list of ailments is now a form of diarrhea and hyochondria especially when I read my horoscope and it said that I had to watch my health due to the draining effect of the conjunction of Saturn with my natal sun which happens once every thirty years. Astrologers would say that many of the tiresome things that have been happening lately are due to this. Many others would say that I need to get a life and stop looking at horoscopes. I went instead to the Twitten and let myself into the house. The radio was on so I realised Dawn was doing some work there. I changed into my work clothes, and then heard Dawn locking the door and being unable to get in. I began shouting...

Rejection made easy Feeling non-specifically coldy and run down, which happened to be handy as I am working on The Sick Day the short play competition entry I am writing about the death of a hypochondriac. Hypochondria, I'm beginning to think, is a good metaphor for the loss of confidence being experienced in the financial markets around the world too. Institutions are losing confidence in their continued existence, in the way a hypochondriac begins to believe that he or she is holding onto life by their fingernails. Went to the gym for half an hour or so of lumbering on the treadmill and pulling and pushing heavy things. They should wire all of these weight machines up to generate power. Returned home to receive a rejection from a poetry magazine. I'm very philosophical about rejections these days. It is essential if you are to prevent yourself from peering at editors through telescopic sites from a city rooftop. You have to separate what you make, from who you are. J-P Sartre...

Orange eye It is the sign of being a hypochondriac that my NHS doctor actually knows who I am, and is very friendly to me. There was a taciturn trainee mountebank in the room, so my doc went to great lengths to make sure everything was pukka. In passing I mentioned that my eye was sore and I got the full orange eye dye treatment and examination for corneal scratches etc. while I told them about the glaucoma pages I've been writing lately. Then to the pharmacy with a baleful orange eye. There a senior gentleman was explaining that vegetarians tend to look pasty, and it makes them more susceptible to flu. Back to work on a few pages of the hogsite: a smorgasbord of ailments today from arthritis to ulcerative colitis. Turned on the radio: a programme about ailments in the 17th century. Some days are themed whether you like it or not. After finishing for the day at 4, I called the Cat with the Hat, who I've not chatted to for some time. He was very cheerful about Obama and invitin...

Feeling better To the doctor. Lurking horribly in the waiting room for 40 minutes which provided an excellent backdrop for hypochondria. Looking at pamphlets pinned to the wall with titles like Heart Attack? and Coping with Cancer? Fortunately Lorraine came too, which was well beyond the call of duty, and prevented me from balling into a foetus position and sobbing under the chairs. Finally in to see the pleasant doctor who took my blood pressure again. Fortunately today's reading was on more of a human scale, but still higher than it ought to be. So before long I was toddling around the corner to score myself a dose of blood pressure pills. Only another hypochondriac could sympathise with the various horrors I have been through in the last days. Today is the first day in getting a grip on my health and this is to be welcomed. The dragon faced, I bought Lorraine a coffee and fruit juice (me a decaf and fruit juice) as a token of thanks for her support. After salad sandwiches, t...

Rock cake and samba Spent today not self destructing again. The morning mild mannered, and included a conversation with Ken, who I will go up and have tea with shortly. Lorraine called by in the afternoon, and we went for a long afternoon stroll along the seafront in the strong wind and by the very rough sea, churning greenly underneath big scudding sometimes rainfilled clouds. Saw the aftermath of a pop concert with pop stars McFly, who I failed to recognise, being surrounded for autographs. Had a cup of tea and half a rock cake in a gale at the meeting place cafe. Rock cakes are rather nice, and I hadn't had one since I was a child. As we ate the rock cake, a the samba band playing a few yards away turned out to be the one Lorraine's pal Dawn plays with. Chatted to Dawn, who I really like and who can often be seen on any parade that needs a bit of samba drumming. For example she was on the pride march the other week. She commented on how chilled we looked. This was pleasing s...

Pollyanna day My horoscope this morning which talked about a Pollyanna tendency. I had to look this up, as I've not read the Pollyanna by Eleanor H Porter. Turns out Pollyanna was an orphan and an incurable optimist who played "the glad game" which enabled her to see her the best in all situations. I think Pollyanna had the right idea. As today was given over to hypochondria, gentle pleasures were forefronted so as not to die suddenly. I wandering about in the library with Lorraine, and popped into the Eagle for lunch. I lurked on my gold sofa watching TV and reading the newspaper, and watched Throw Momma from the Train which happened to be on and is a very funny film. Lorraine bravely spent lots of time with me, exhibiting her usual kindness and generally being reassuring. Wondering what I can do differently to keep my blood pressure down: I love my work, I'm not under excessive financial pressure, I have loads of friends and am very close to my family, I do a a fai...

Through the roof Started the day by zooming down to the quack's office to have a couple of blood tests. Apprehensively I was expecting to have my blood pressure taken but they didn't. I was apprehensive because I have had a few borderline readings on blood pressure, and sometimes these have been high. I have attributed these mainly to white coat syndrome. However this afternoon I broke out my own blood pressure monitor which I bought a year ago, and haven't used. On using it, I found to my alarm that my blood pressure was through the roof. Lorraine came around and did it on herself and then on me again to confirm that this was accurate. The good news is that Lorraine is a very reassuring person to have around at times like this. I ended up calling the doctor for advice, who said that I should discuss getting a prescription for blood pressure pills on Monday. Obviously as a card carrying hypochondriac this was all a bit disturbing. However have tried to frame it positively, ...