Thursday, March 26th marks two weeks since the announcement that normal life was suspended, in an attempt to ward off the horrific consequences of the Coronavirus pandemic that have been witnessed in northern Italy. Since then, the restrictions have become tighter – now only essential businesses are allowed to remain open (although there is debate over what constitutes an ‘essential business’). Thankfully the supermarket and chemist shop are categorised thus – I do like a face to face encounter. Continue reading From a distance – The Coronavirus Diaries – day 14. The walks.
The alarm clock this morning resembled a blood-curdling shriek. Hauling myself from my pit at the regular time of 7.30am is bad enough; but today my day began an hour earlier. Having suffered from the drearily unglamourous condition of Type 1 diabetes for forty years now; on a fairly regular basis I attend the diabetes clinic, where the doctors and nurses hum and haw at my file, make some suggestions to me and send me on my way to injection happiness. Some days before each appointment I present myself at the hospital for bloods to be extracted for analysis in time for the real appointment. Continue reading ‘Please alight for the diabetes asylum’
One of the deeply glamourous side effects of diabetes is blindness caused by diabetic retinopathy. This is where diabetes induced damage is caused to the retina. Over 80% of diabetics who have had the disease for 20 years or more will get retinopathy. Not all people with retinopathy will go blind thankfully. I have been diabetic for forty years since I was but a toddler. For some bizarre reason my eyesight is still intact. Every year I go to a special eye clinic where a nice woman takes a photograph of inside my eye, sends it away to a lab for analysis and issues the result. Continue reading The smokey eyes of Midnight Murphy
I shot up in my bed, and shivered. I couldn’t see my face, but if I had been able to, I suspect that I would have been as pale as a ghost. I glanced at the alarm clock of hatred, sitting on the bedside locker beside me. It was 3.30am. I felt relieved. I had another four hours left to sleep.
Staggering to the kitchen, I opened the cupboard and selected two of McVitie’s finest digestive biscuits. I was distressed and sweating. Some sugar would help. I don’t think the low blood sugars were the only cause for my concern however. The content of my dream had been most troubling.
The dream had involved a scenario in which the leader of North Korea – murderous dictator Kim-Jong Un – had romantic designations on me, and wanted to make me his love slave. He had been chasing me through the rooms and dungeons of King John’s Castle in Limerick City, demanding that I requite his love. Continue reading ‘I’ve never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight…’
I have been at my present job for just over a year. As a precondition to starting work I needed to pass a medical examination by the company doctor. Obviously I passed as my presence here on a daily basis would otherwise be strange. Each year a follow up medical is mandated. Continue reading A morning medical
I had intended to get the earlier bus. By walking that little bit extra distance, I can board four stops later than usual. This enables a later departure from my house. Continue reading FIGHT!
That sounds melodramatic doesn’t it?
Continue reading Today, I fast.
Somebody got out on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Oh yes they did (try to read that in a voice that your mother used, when you were five and cranky). No prizes for guessing who I am talking about. Continue reading Dublin drear