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Next day…

I have been OK, even without the medicine. I’m suprised, as previously I got quite unwell. I felt it most last night.

I’m thankful for the friends I have who help me out atsuch times. I better not mention who they are or where they live as the poison pen may get busy again. One would think they have better thingsto do.

It is so bitterly cold. I feel it even though I am snug in my home. I hear the wind, and see the sky and know it’s 0/-1 C out there today.

I have not yet been summoned for my vaccinne. I thought I would get done with the vulnerable grouping. If they have me by age, I have a wait. I still am dubious about how my neurological disease will react to the chemicals that preserve the protein spike.

I am in a sleep cycle that isn’t great just now. I wake between 2am and 3am. I am drawn to my bed early though. I love my bed and in winter I just want to hibernate. Daffadils are beginning to show, and other spring flowers. I have seeds to sow in March. That’s not far away. I will have been shielding since March 6 last year so nearly a year. Of course, I have been out, but since Christmas only twice.

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 madswirl.com and other publications. I live on the south coast of England with my daughter. I am seriously ill.

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