What to do

What to do? We didn't know. He didn't know, his choice to make this year, as it was mine last. Much debating ensued.

So now, finally, we have the decision and the dead is done - the applications have gone in to attend SOAR! (Just by way of a change....)

This is actually quite a leap of faith on the part of the DSM, as he has anxieties about things getting back to normal. After all, he is still not back at work, and there is the cardioversion to come. But that is all in train, and he has an appointment for the pre-assessment mid-May, with hopefully the procedure to follow to too long afterwards. Might be back at work before that happens anyway. One day at a time, chaps, one day at a time.

In my case, one second at a time this morning, I had the great joy of the dread visit to the white van in the car park. For those not blessed enough to live under the mantle of the NHS, by that I mean it was boob-mashing day. Oh, such fun. Having a total stranger manipulating bits of your anatomy that you would much rather were not there, let alone those you are reasonably happy with. It is not that it hurts, I understand that that is one of the benefits of being ample in the boobage department. It is just the weirdness of the procedure, and of course - of course - that worm of anxiety that this might just be the time......

For reasons quite incomprehensible to me, the Fates always decree that this happens to me at a time when I have more than enough stress in my life without adding any more. Ah, well, all done now, the mashing bit anyway. Fingers crossed about the rest (no reason whatsoever to give concern, I should say.)

Anyway, I decided that given the circumstances, plus the fact that the weather was doing its glorious thing again this morning, that I would overrule the DSM and finish our breakfast interrupted when the Gasman came to call at 8am (it was just one of those mornings, central heating inspection, boob inspection......) So we sat outside by the packhorse bridge over the river and had lattes and croissants and basked.

Because we're worth it.