09:32 GMT

  The temperature did not fall much in the night. It was 8° C according to my thermometers, although the forecast said it was 7° C. It was all thanks, if that is the right word, to thick cloud - cloud that will make most of today rather grey, although the forecast does say 3pm, and only 3pm, may have a few sunny spells. Once again the afternoon will only be just 10° C, and by midnight it may be just 7° C. Tomorrow morning may start at 6° C, and once again it may warm up to 10° C at lunchtime. The whole of tomorrow may be grey, but no rain is shown, although the chance of rain does rise to 27% in the evening.

  Yesterday had the potential to be a good and useful day, but it didn't happen. There were two sides to the problem. One was that I could not raise the enthusiasm to do stuff I thought I would try and do. That was linked to the fact that I seem to have transferred a lot of my sleep to day time, and can't seem to always sleep much at night - or at least I seem to think I can't sleep enough at night.

  Trying to get all my sleep at night is going to be a tricky thing when it just seems so easy to snooze through the day. In turn that is because there are not enough realistic distractions through the day. One such distraction should be going for some walks - short walks until I build my muscle tone back into my legs enough to attempt some longer walks. I haven't worked out a good compromise yet between doing what I can before my faulty heart valve causes a complete stop to recover. That didn't come out as a good explanation, but I hope the intent is clear.

  My original plan for yesterday was to finish my writing (yesterday's piece) and then have a shower. Once clean and fragrant I could test myself by going shopping in Tesco. If I felt too bad on the way I could turn around and come home. If it became obvious that I was trying to buy too much (and would have a heavy load to carry home) I could back off, and be more careful what I bought. It should have been very simple, but it didn't happen.

  One reason it didn't happen is that after I finished writing yesterday, I decided I needed a snooze. I even wrote that in yesterday's piece. I did indeed have a snooze, and although I can't seem to remember how long it lasted, I think it was well in excess of an hour. I woke up feeling that somehow it was too late to go out. I could still have done so, but another plan was crystallising in my brain.

  The day before yesterday I managed to hand wash a useful amount of smelly laundry - mostly stuff I had worn in hospital. I had just over one more load to do, and decided I should make that my priority for the day. There was some logic in this because among the stuff I almost finished yesterday was two pairs of pyjama bottoms. I prefer to wear them rather than hospital gowns where I can, and with the prospect of at least a couple days in hospital when I have my faulty hear valve replaced, it would be good to have clean stuff to take with me.

  Unfortunately, although I made progress in doing that next load of laundry, I did not finish it. I guess I started too late, and didn't realise that I couldn't be bothered to do it in dribs and drabs during commercial breaks while watching TV (although I have done that successfully before). This morning I have one more rinse, followed by the fabric conditioner to do before I can hang it all up to dry - and then have a shower (and probably wash my hair too).

  In between snoozing, reading a book, and watching TV, I did both be very careful about what I ate, and didn't take care about what I ate. This paradox will be explained a little further down the page.

  I think my lunch was a plate of skin on, oven chips. They were not as good as the sweet potato chips I had the previous day, but still fairly satisfying. I may well be deluding myself, but I don't remember snacking much during the day. I probably nibbled on the odd chunk of cheese, but my cupboard only has a dwindling supply of snacks left (mostly crisps - which were not so attractive after the oven chips).

  My evening meal was a three bean chilli - that I assumed came with rice, but didn't. It was still tasty as it was, and it was part of Aldi's "Slimwell range", and did indeed seem to have only a moderate amount of calories. Of course all those beans made it a very high fibre meal whose effects are still waiting to be seen.

  Being a Saturday, when TV schedules are different to weekdays schedules, I found one thing to watch that was quite good. I must admit it was quite a strange sort of good, but I did stick with it to the end, and "sort of" enjoyed it. It was a documentary about John Lennon and Yoko Ono. I think it finished at gone 10pm, maybe as late as 11pm. During one commercial break I did one rinse of the laundry I had left in it's big bucket in the bath, but I didn't find the enthusiasm to finish the job.

  When the documentary film had finished I spent a little time (maybe as little as 15 minutes) checking a few things on line, and then went to bed. I felt tired, and assumed I would fall asleep really quickly, but for some stupid reason I didn't. I can't remember how much sleep I got, but it felt less than ideal. One the other hand I did have a dream about a nurse, but it wasn't quite the dream I had spent the previous night storyboarding.

   The dream was a bit sensual. The pretty nurse was stroking me, and even used a tourniquet to make things swell up. Sadly the bit swelling up was arteries in my arm. All the stroking was still sensuous, but it was to identify a good place to stick a needle in, and draw out some samples of blood. It was not exactly what I hoped for in a dream, but the start was nice, and at least the end was 97% painless.

  There are good nurses and bad nurses, and to my complete astonishment even a good doctor. Some have the skill to identify and artery (or maybe a vein), and get a needle into it almost painlessly. Phlebotomists who practice the art day after day can be superb. With nurses it is a bit hit and miss, but most were pretty good at it during my stay in hospital. The big surprise was a doctor, specifically a cardiologist, who seem to not want to get their hands dirty by actually touching patients (beyond a quick listen with a stethoscope), did an excellent job of drawing some blood samples from me. Quite why he didn't get a nurse to do it is a mystery. Maybe he made a bet with his colleagues that he could do it, or maybe he felt it was good to keep his skills in practice.

  The nurse drawing blood was not the only dream I had. There was another that with the aid of a pretty nurse could have been very erotic, but turned out to be anything but ! I was directed to go to a clinic to give a sperm sample. When I got there I found that instead of some pretty nurses there were three burly woman who reminded me of school dinner ladies complete with gravy stains on their white uniforms.

  One of them directed me to select a condom from a rack in the corner, and to do the necessary to leave a sample in it - in a room with no screens, and other men doing similar while the grim looking women watched. I decided there was no reason to claim what I didn't have, and selected a "standard size" condom. It seems standard size was huge, and by huge I mean it was long enough to cover my entire arm, and wide enough to be slack even with my hand drawn up to the biggest fist I could make.

  I was convinced that the xtra large size would have been large enough to drive one of the old style mini cars into ! There was too many negative aspects of this sperm collection to produce any results, and it was a sort of relief to wake up. I think that was around 6am, and it felt too early to get up. I had a pee and then went back to bed. I now I slept a bit more more, but I can also remember periods of time when I was awake trying to get more sleep.

  When I woke up I did my usual health checks, and they were sort of interesting. I had peed several times in the night, but not that much at a time, That suggested my blood glucose was probably low, but that my weight might not be as low as desired. On top of that, all the beans in last night's bean chilli have yet to trouble me. The net result is that I have put on 800gm this morning. That is a lot. Maybe it is just lack of exercise instead of over eating, although I was managing to lose weight on a diet of hospital food without any exercise.

  The big paradox is that my blood glucose readings were fantastic this morning, and that should indicate that I did eat carefully yesterday. The three readings I got were 5.9mmol/l (really fantastic), 6.6mmol/l (very good) and 6.4mmol/l (also very good).  I think the conclusion is that despite taking a small dose of Furosemide (a usually potent diuretic) I am retaining water in (mostly) my left leg again, and that the beans in last nights dinner aren't working, mean I am retaining poo for some reason.

   I still find it odd that weight and blood glucose can go in opposite directions when, in theory, they should be agreeing that I have eaten badly, or sensibly the previous day. Before leaving my measurable health, my blood pressure seems pretty good this morning with a reading of 118/44 (unless that is maybe a bit too low).

  Of course that is only aspects of health I can measure, but there is also how I feel. At the moment I feel very normal, but I know that could be transitory. I must admit I feel too lazy to want to finish me laundry sitting in a big bucket in the bath. I will overcome that laziness because I want to have a shower and wash my hair because Jodie should be over this afternoon for some beer drinking. I still am not sure if I can raise the enthusiasm to go shopping in Tesco.

   That does not have to happen for some time yet because I have maybe 3 or 4 or more days worth of food in the freezer (and takeaways, while not ideal are still a possibility). On the other hand I do feel I need to test my legs to see just how weak they are becoming form lack of use. My appointment at Kings College Hospital on the 23rd is getting ever closer, and I still want to get there by train and my own legs if I can.








   2040 words today.