You won’t believe this.

Actually I don’t. give a damn whether you believe it or not but it does make a break from the endless news about that moron Trump.

The fact is that I’m back in hospital. My break for freedom didn’t even last 48 hours before they had me back in the Big House. The reasons for the return are tedious, rank and not very pleasant so I’ll skip that bit. The big news is that I have been promoted yet again. Frequent Bed Miles? I have gone up a floor to a private room and what must be one of the best views in Dublin out over a golf course and the leafy suburbs to the Dublin Mountains in the distance.

On the negative side, they have gone ballistic on the radiography side of things. i am just back from a session and I can assure you it makes waterboarding seem like a walk in the park.

For those of you fortunate enough never to have undertaken the radiography route, the first session is where they get a plasticky king of mesh, plunge it in hot water and then press it over your face. the plastic hardens and takes on a precise death-mask of your facial features. For each session thereafter the mask is placed over your face and securely clamped to the bed of the machine. At this point your head is completely immobile. It is locked into the machine. the operators then bugger off and start pressing their buttons and things.

I don’t know if it’s just me but it feels like they are firing fire into my tongue. I can’t move. I can’t scream [my jaw is clamped shut in the mask]. All I can do is shed a tear and pray that the torture will end soon. I have to have ten sessions and today’s was the fifth.

Half way.

I try to look on the bright side.