What I think most people find odd is that I don't look unwell. The only difference - if I'm out of the house and moving about, so two weeks out of three - is that I've gained some weight, due to the fact I don't walk as much as I used to and don't play football anymore. I glance in the mirror, and while I don't flatter myself that I'm Brad Pitt, think I look indecently well.
I shouldn't complain. It is guaranteed not to be a permanent state of affairs. But right now, I almost feel like apologising.
On the subject of staying well, H mentioned to me that maybe I should try some of the local "healing" groups. I laughed out loud. Crystals, chanting, healing hands. I'm afraid I just...don't believe a word. It is best - out of respect for the no doubt good, well intentioned people there (and who knows - maybe they're right and I'm wrong - more fool me) - that I stay away. The last thing they want is a newbie, sat in the corner, smirking.
