So I’ve been back in England for a couple of weeks, and my mum’s fresh out of hospital after a completely successful operation to have her guts and bum reconnected. This was the same operation that went wrong and very nearly killed her at the beginning of the year. So obviously, this time round, there is much relief.
And that’s not all. Get this:
* In June I saw two different physiotherapists about my knackered back and with their help, I devised a programme of daily exercises to strengthen my core, open up my joints and get me moving again without debilitating pain. Nothing changed for a while, but I persisted. Eventually – thanks to the programme and three months of hard physical outdoor work in France – most of the pain went away. Then – as if that weren’t enough – one day I found what I thought might have been a tumour between my ribs. Before I had the chance to panic, however, I realised it was actually a wall of muscle in my stomach. So now, not only is my back hugely improved and predominantly painless, but I’m also in better shape than I have ever been. So that’s good.
* In July I met a woman I’d met once before, 16 months earlier. After our first meeting I suspected she was pretty much everything I could ever want from a woman – creative and unconventional, funny and sexy and at least 17% insane – but at that point she was not single. When I met her this time around she was single. Now – to cut a long and really quite beautifully convoluted story short – she isn’t single again, and neither am I.
* In September I received a letter from the Inland Revenue. After four years of ignoring them, they had finally caught up with me. I feared the worst. The letter contained a small list of all my acts of ostensible tax negligence, then a large sum of money that I owed. This was followed by the words: ‘Amount not currently being pursued’. Why? I’ve no idea. Then, dispelling the doubts that I could not help harbour, at the bottom of the letter, in bold, in a box, like a choir of benevolent bouncers, were the words, You have nothing to pay.
So, as you can imagine, I was – and remain – cockahoop.
Now I must tiptoe quietly away before something calamitous occurs….