I’m just back from visiting Doc.

He seemed a little surprised to see me and had assumed I had kicked the bucket by now. That explains why he only gave me two month’s worth of prescriptions last time. I did wonder. Apparently he had reckoned that my weeks in the Torture Room would have finished me off.

I consoled him that indeed, bits were beginning to fall off quicker than I can bolt them back on again. That seemed to cheer him.

So anyhows he checked my heart [still beating] and my lungs [still breathing]. He asked about the side effects from the loads of tablets I take. I told him how my fingers were constantly a shade of either blue or purple but that I wasn’t worried as I couldn’t feel them any more anyway. I showed him how the back of my left hand is beautifully coloured like an apple that has gone bad inside. He said he had just assumed that was dirt [fucking nerve!]. He agreed they were all side effects and that if they didn’t ease off that I should get a pair of mittens like the pair that Fagan wears in Oliver Twist. He seems to believe in lateral thinking.

He cheered up a bit further then as he remembered the Flu Jab that they are now pushing on an unsuspecting public. I normally pass on that one but he ranted on about how I was very high risk because of my age and my “recent medical history”. I conceded in the end but he probably gave me dose to treat bovine mastitis or something.

Before I left, I asked him for a repeat of my prescriptions.

He gave me four months worth.

Obviously my prognosis is improving?