Love and hate

Snow flakes fall in central London as I look out of the window before setting off for a shop and and a coffee with a friend. Going quietly stir-crazy after three weeks of illness and enforced rest. Antibiotics have kicked in though and the hyena cough is less frequent, though I still have the energy levels of a gnat.

I love watching the snow fall; it’s so unusual in London and so quietly beautiful. But I hate it too as it means I daren’t go out, with my current balance problems and stick, it pretty much means a direct pass to A and E with a broken limb and that would be the straw that broke this particular camel’s back.

I need to get out, both for some exercise as the less I walk, the harder it is and for my sanity – I need to see people and reintroduce myself to normal life. So I put my layers on and put my nose out of the front door and miraculously a watery sun comes out and melts any remaining flakes.

I walk, very tentatively at first and then with growing confidence, the few hundred metres to the coffee shop, pause and open the door to the usual human hubbub. Time to rejoin the human race.


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