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On Thursday I travelled to Liverpool and Liverpool Royal Hospital, where I’d seen the twerp, all those months ago… This time it was to see a nutritionist.



The young woman I had seen had listened: although, for all I know, she might have thought all he’d said and written was the word itself, but it hadn’t showed, as she had seemed to listen.



Grant you, all she was doing was to issue the Fodmap diet he’d written of to my doctor, amongst his mention of this miracle pill: note - cynical head now sits.



Anyway, she did listen when I explained my complaints and, reminded her that I do not have IBS, much as some of the symptoms are similar. And, much as the diet seems quiet severe – in that it entails, no garlic, onions, or anything with wheat flour in, like my favourite oat crumbles and, apple sauce…



Friday afternoon Dad and I had gone shopping and, just for a change, the lights had been with us, all of the journey to Azda – almost unheard of, for us when we go out.



Then on Saturday dad had chilled after tea, saying he'd said he'd been stuffed, it was an iffit casserole. ‘iffits leftover, it goes in...’ with curry and potato added.



And, I have found a reliable site to watch many films and with a right click and save as, then rename, acquire many films I wanted... in mp4.



I even acquired an English dubbed gun woman.... amazing film.



The films are streamed; but so far, I've got many films I wanted for my new toy, a terrabyte drive. At least it gave me something to think of, during my sleepless Saturday night, due to the brightest full moon I’d seen in a while.



And, as if I don’t have enough to deal with, like garlic and gravy are on the list of things not to eat, the diet hadn’t started, yet… so we’d had a small but pretty good roast meal… it was just prior to cooking that an abscess burst. This time it was the back of where it burst open last time; and with a filling between two teeth on the upper set falling out. As I said, ‘as if I didn’t have enough to worry about.’



When I start this fodmap diet... the food I do eat will be BLAND: and, what irks me, the diet is intended for IBS to ease the bloating, but many of the foods excluded like broccoli and garlic are good for diverticulosis.

All of that is awkward for me, as sometimes I have 'encouraged' myself to eat… On those occasions, I remind myself that I don't need to control that aspect of my Life now…

And Life being Life, I ended up with an abscess burst at the base of a tooth on the left hand side, and then an infection set in. I’d gone to the dentist and, been treated with some antibiotics. By the end of the week, as the course was ending I’d slept well, after housework and shopping with Dad… and, a pretty good meal.

This is while having a doctor’s appointment, where my chest had been spoken of, with a view to antibiotics and an x-ray.

When I’d woken my face had been burning, so an emergency appointment was needed; but with whom was the question: the dentist, or the doctor? As it transpires, protocol dictated seeing the dentist first, as I’d thought it might…

I’d ended up with more antibiotics: and as the swelling got worse it began to affect the right of my neck.

Thankfully my tv shows have brought me some distraction of late – I liked ‘Preacher’ almost as much as I’d liked Edge, which had brought to life books I’d enjoyed so very much. And, in its own way, ‘Preacher’ had done the same, being a very good evocation of the DC comics character.

I’ve been on this diet a little while now and, have adhered to it strictly. This was made even more difficult than at first imagined as I developed a face infection.

And, although I don’t eat much anyway, this made it worse for me, thanks to a lump of nastiness above my Adam’s apple and, a dry throat that seemed to close towards the end of the day: which brings me to today. Thanks to Flaxseed and Hemp, to as a dietary supplement, I’d been able to go to the toilet properly. Having a Pip medical the next day, much later I’d made my Dad’s meal and, then decided to have a bowl of soup, so toileting would not be too much of an issue, prior to getting ready, to travel. A short while before serving his meal I’d knelt before my laptop to set up a download: and listened to my lower gut gurgle… All the things I like I’ve cut out of my diet, thanks to FODMAP, yet still it gurgles, like a brook, on a spring day…

It seems the only solution, is to eat and, feel stuffed. Well, at least that’s how I feel – after I’ve eaten and rested awhile: stuffed and perky, my body feeling porky and my mind ready to write, or whatever. Anyway… I had an interview at Europa House in Birkenhead for Pip [Personal Independence Payments] – and met Simon on the way there, who’d been kind enough to act as m advocate, even though it was his day off. And, right from the moment I arrived, it had been different from any other Atos-related interview that I’ve had thus far, to the extent that at the end of it I thanked the young lady interviewing me, saying; “Thank you for treating me as a person.” Well, it had been as we’d stood outside that Simon had said, “You’ve got it, did you not pick up on what she’d said?” And, I guess I must have looked docile enough for him to add, “She’d said, someone will contact you in six-to-eight weeks, to tell you how much you’ll be getting and when.” Well, that’d been a pleasant surprise. And, the word pleasant brings a few more… Oh not during the afternoon – that had been spent in the dentists chair, for quite awhile, as he had cleaned away at where it had been infected

I’d been sitting cross-legged on the side of my bed, typing away on the keyboard of one laptop and watching something moderately interesting, as I did so. Then, at something like twelve thirty or so in the morning, I heard our doorknocker go. Well, needless to say, I’d been cautious as I walked through the dark front-room and, even moreso, as I’d drawn back the bolts to the front door. Then as the door opened, the first thing I heard was, “I’m sorry, but…” And then, she’d explained she’d been drinking and then clarified as to why she was there; telling me how her friend had maybe lost some jewellery of a sentimental nature, in our front boarder, among the bushes. She had also explained who her friend was – the niece of the woman who used to live next door to us. {And with whom I’d made it with a couple of times – before she’d moved away and, later died} “Could I have a look?” She’d asked, prior to me saying and ‘yes’ and, her using light from her phone, to look. Eventually she’d come back to me at the door and, we’d door talking awhile – and, she’d apologised several more times, for calling and, for being drunk and, for bothering me… And, truth be told, she hadn’t been… bothering me that is. I’d found her dark hair and eyes, set amidst an oval face attractive and felt drawn to her. Then she’d asked for a drink, after we’d kissed, deeply and passionately – there and then, on the doorstep – and, I’d invited her into the kitchen, whilst still in a clinch. In the kitchen we had talked and kissed and she had said, ‘You’re pleasant,’ more than once, as though she’d not expected me to be. I had rambled about myself, to assure her I was ‘safe’, as was she. And, while I had done so, I’d informed her I felt she was generational Irish, to which she seemed surprised; then said, “Anyone could guess that!” Well, that led to me saying, “You calling me just ‘anyone?” And then, we had arm wrestled, after she’d shown off her muscles and, she’d been peeved that I’d allowed her to beat me. But, what had been going through my head was making out with her, a friend of my neighbour, who I’d also known in a similar manner and, that had kept me amused. And, it had been round about then I’d introduced myself, as had she, between more kisses and amorous caressing: Amanda. We had sat and chatted a moment, as I’d told her a little of myself, before she’d asked, “Can I sit on you?” Of course I’d said ‘yes’ and she’d done just that and, sat on my lap. Eventually this had led to me easing her back and, her trousers and boxer shorts off; to lathe her with my tongue, despite her urging me to stop, as she kinda whinnied. Now, knowing the rough age of her friend I could guess at her age and, for awhile I’d revelled in her intent, ‘to have another drink, then have sex.’ But, with control that I can show on occasion, I’d restrained myself, albeit with difficulty… then, ushered her out, with the idea she went home.

Well, come the Sunday as Dad and I chatted in the livin room, a very smart, small silver car parked up outside our home. Staring out on a very warm day at the cars drivers, I had figured I knew who it – Amanda. I’d got my outside glasses quickly, then dashed out. Kneeling by the passenger side I’d rested my crossed arms on the window and we’d talked. She’d started by telling me that wouldn’t happen again, to which I’d said I was sad to hear that, with a grin on my face. She’d returned my grin and informed me, ‘I don’t mean you.’ And, she’d seemed confused when I’d told her I’d appreciated her interest, to which she’d seemed surprised there were not others, interested. I’d reminded her about her asking for, ‘another drink, then sex’… and, without being too embarrassed, she’d told me that she remembered. She had seemed visibly relieved, when I had explained why I’d not gone further than I had… But as to seeing her again – that’ll be up to her, as she told me. That said, I’d shaken her hand after saying it’d been good to see her, then said, “Inappropriate.”

At least she’d found me ‘interesting’, I like that.

Then on the Monday the senior receptionist of our doctors phoned, with a message that she wanted to give to no other: it transpired I need a second x-ray and, for the next one I need ‘nipple-markers’, like a strippers nipple pasties. Well, as soon as she said that I had taken the phone from my mouth as I’d known what would happen and did – I laughed uproariously. Even though, I’ve another x-ray to have…

Well, I had the X-Ray and, there’d been no stripper’s pasties; rather, the radiologist twisted a paperclip into a triangle and that had gone onto a plaster and over my nipple – aye, doesn’t sound so ‘interesting’, now I say it like that!

And, Dad and I finally got the rain we’ve been waiting for --- grant you, London and Birmingham have had floods, but not here… on The Wirral!