I don't know if its the change in my pain medication, my coming up to being a woman of a 'certain age' (Mr T informing me, somewhat sarcastically I feel, that he can't begin to tell me how much he is looking forward to this), or what, but I'm feeling really rather sorry for myself.
Rather shamefully so given that our great-nephew, Half Pint (6 months) has been in hospital, part of that spent in ITU, since mid-February.
In hospital over Christmas with what was diagnosed as Bronchiolitis, it seems he has had a relapse, on top of which his consultant is beginning to think he has something 'floppy' going on with his larynx (don't you just love medical speak?) that is causing his breathing difficulties.
Planning to be back with you Monday. I'm hoping that by posting what I plan to post I might actually feel the inclination to do so. So ...
On Monday I'm planning on a review of Andy Weir's The Martian followed by a review of The Double Axe by Philip Womack and, to round off the week, Tree & Leaf, Smith Of Wootton Major, the Homecoming of Beorhtnoth by J.R.R. Tolkien.
But for now, if you'll be so good as to excuse me, I'm away for a shower. My toe (pictured right on the day of surgery) well on its way to healing, almost eight weeks on I think I'm safe to do so.