I've had better days

There are times when life seems unable to resist the temptation to rise up and bite you. There I am, wobbling into freelance life, thinking I might just about be able to make enough money to pay the rent, and wham—

My blood test results come back, and I’ve got Graves disease again. I am the one person in fifty who gets a recurrence. Not odds you’d bet on. Or maybe you would.

I wouldn’t.

So, it’s back to the rounds of GP, specialist, treatment and lifelong medication. I know it’s just chance, but it still feels like punishment. I’d forgotten that bewildered feeling after the diagnosis, where you forget for a while, and life is ordinary, and then you remember and it feels like a dream but it wasn’t. It’s real.

And on the great scale of pathology, it’s not much to complain about.

And in a few weeks it will have sunk in, and it will be part of me, just another thing that I deal with. But just now it isn’t, and there’s nothing I can do but wait.