Niggles and Twinges

One of my sisters was of the opinion that our late mother, famously hypochondriac, experienced most of her mental angst through her body. I fear this is becoming true for me too. For instance, I have had a recurring pain, more of a niggle really, on the left side of my head. This will be a brain tumour. A twinge in my left nipple, this must be cancer. Only this afternoon I found myself very weary and went for a lie-down. I had an ache in my upper left arm. I felt my pulse and it was racing which must be a sign of a heart attack. I counted the beats of my heart in 60 seconds. Seventy bpm. Googled this and found it to be normal.

All this hypochomdria distresses me. It's not the fear of a terminal illness but the dampening of pleasure in everyday living.  And I know what is causing it. Too much time on my hands and stress about Covid, lockdown and the return of unrest (riots) to our towns and cities. I almost miss Trump as the focus of my anxieties. This is all getting a bit too close to home.

Well, perhaps they'll cool their heels tonight. Out of respect for their Queen's bereavement.

In the meantime, I have birds to watch.

And these two to cheer me up.

Dog Talk

Judy, poor pooch, is unwell and is in doggy hospital. What seemed like an ordinary upset stomach (lots of boking and loss of appetite) has turned out to be an infection. Bert knew last night that she was sick when one of her favourite visitors turned up and instead of the usual ecstatic welcome, loud barking, full-body wiggling and jumping up, all she could manage was a few woofs, and a few tail wags before staggering back to her favourite armchair.

Jess is distraught. What didn't help is that we are looking after Zoe's dog Maya for a few nights and I think Jess believes we have swapped dogs. So I took her with me on a trip to Ikea to cheer her up. Which was OK until I decided to take her for a bit of a walk to cheer her up even more. The first 15 minutes were fairly OK but by the time we passed Decathlon she was not in good form. I realised that the constant road traffic, the people and the noise of the planes were affecting her. She is not a city dog. We started walking back and she looked so cringey and scared that I started to think that people might think I'd stolen her and was wondering how I could convince anyone, who might challenge me on that point, that I wasn't a dog-rustler.

One thing is for sure. She won't be going walkies in a built-up environment, next to an airport ever again.

Where Jess belongs.

Stressful Day

I had a stressful day today and I expect tomorrow might be more of the same. I'm just not used to stress any more for which I am very thankful.

And no! It was nothing to do with Brexit. That's merely a distraction, although I follow all
developments keenly and hope for an interesting outcome that will eventually lead to an independent Scotland and our island united. That's my dream.

My nightmare? That we remain part of the UK and that someone like Rees-Mogg becomes Prime Minister. What horror!