So, here I am days, even weeks into my latest episode of being ill - poked, prodded and pricked - scanned, reported and having heard inane phone music many many times whilst waiting to speak to medical secretaries, etc etc, but you know, that's life and it ain't all bad. When I think of the kind of treatment my Uncle Paul in Manchester has had I feel blessed to have a most outstanding GP, Amr Zeineldine - a man who actually listens, and gives options and always treats one as I imagine he would like to be treated himself.
The cold weather is setting in now in London, and I see the trees rustling in the cold breze outside the window as I type this, and the colours change on the trees from the vivid greens to the crisp orange and browns of the fall. The sky has lost that hopeful bright tall blue foreverness, and is heavy and oppressive. Ruskin park starts closing earlier and earlier now, until we reach the 3.30pm closure of deep December. Anyways, that's all for now folks. I leave you feeling incredibly grateful for a wonderful partner and family and friends and colleagues, and a life more incredible and beautiful than I ever could have imagined it would be, peterxxx
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