Farewell and thanks for the Tosca.

I heard, yesterday, that someone I knew well, and who knew me quite intimately (she was one of the masseuses who help me try to keep my lymphoedemic arm under control, therefore she is one of the few people¬†to have seen my naked, one-boob-only chest) died on Good Friday. She had had a hip replacement done last year and didn’t seem to recover from it. She came back to work for a while but we could see she was struggling. Anyway, late last year she was finally diagnosed with Motor Neurone Disease. Now she’s gone. I’d gone to the clinic yesterday for my usual two hour appointment: one hour of laser treatment and then one hour of massage. I’d dragged myself along, somewhat reluctantly, because I was in pain due to my crumbling spine. I was...

Read More