My nightmare symptom…

I have set this so that only wordpress users who are signed in can read. Yesterday’s too. I am tired of every Tom, Dick and Harry trolling me.

Today a nurse from the surgery came to look at my horrid symptom. I call it that because I can’t bear to talk about it. I care for it every day and try to forget it.

She seemed concerned but didn’t ask any ridiculous questions, which really helped. She was pleasant without being ‘sweet’ or sickly.

After that I had three deliveries, and the window cleaner came, which I had temporarily forgotten. All that done, I wrote for a while and then made pizza for dinner. I used loads of cheese, much more than usual. I wanted to feel very sated.

My hip has not bothered me at all in the last few days. How fickle the body is.

I haven’t watered the garden as we are due rain tomorrow and if I water the tomatoes too much they will have no flavour. I want flavour.

So now I have read for a while and am drinking a small glass of rose Pinot Grigio. It’s very pleasant.

It’s been greyish today but warm. Quiet except for birds and the odd voice here and there.

A good day in all.

By Chrisssie Morris Brady

I've read poetry since I was nine and have written creatively since I was fourteen (probably long before that). After writing book reviews and social comment, I decided I wanted to write poetry. I have no formal training, but I surround myself with poets and their writing. I am honing my craft.
I have two published collections which I don't feel good about, but have been published by and other publications. I live on the south coast of England with my daughter. I am seriously ill.

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