I have no plan, only a false sense of confidence and a rather splendid Tuesday to spur me on…

Evening Ratfans,

Well, the Tuesday blues had no time to show their sorry faces today. Twas a long and fruitful one, no respite for ill behaviour. I had a series of positive moments today. Phone calls offering work and good news. Emails thanking me for a job well done and asking for more of the same. A pair of beautiful smiling faces staring back at me every time i popped in and out of our sinful living abode. And fried chicken for the team for being so lush and hitting their targets. All in all it has been a breeze and I've been left wanting more.

Unfortunately, my working week as a provider of lifts, chicken and random motivation has come to an end. Tomorrow is D-day at the hospital. Back in Chelsea to talk (ironically) about my broken mouth. About how we move forward with the operation because I really have reached the end of my tether with regards to talking like a deaf person (no offence to anyone of impaired hearing, but I'm struggling not being understood), walking like a rude boy (but the limp is real) and the many compromises that accompany this physical wreck that I've become. 

I must try not to be fobbed off with compliments about how good my voice is sounding compared to last time. This ploy will not disarm my quest for rehabilitation and definitive conclusion to 9 months of this utmost frustration. 'Be Nice' is very difficult when everything i say has to be repeated 3 times just to make any sense to anyone. Being totally incapable of any exercise because my foot is useless and in constant pain which, coupled with a diet the original Big Daddy would be proud of, is  contributing to monstrous weight gain/chin multiplication. 

My physiotherapist said this morning that my sural nerve is repairing at the rate of 1mm a month. Bearing in mind the trauma site is about 200mm from the toe I still can’t feel, she said it could be years before I get sensation back in the little toe on my left foot. Not good news you might think, but she also said the physio we’re doing is making positive steps and she thinks I’ll be back in normal(ish) footwear in a matter of months.

So, I’m taking this hypomania mood with me into the fray tomorrow. Happy hysteria and wild abandon as I tackle the resistance to put me to the sword once more. Wish me luck, I have no plan, only a false sense of confidence and a rather splendid Tuesday to spur me on…

One Love

Jez

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