Well, it just goes to show doesn’t it! We went on holiday with the children and it only seemed to make things worse. That makes it sound like we had a bad holiday – we didn’t. In fact we had a brilliant time for 99% of the time, but somehow this thing is preying on my mind. I tried to laugh it off, and my family (bless them) joined in with me. Somehow things went a little too far and I went “off on one” as my wife says. It wasn’t deliberate but it caused a lot of upset, just at a time when I didn’t want it to.
I don’t know if it’s psychosomatic (spelling?) or what, after all, I’ve lived with angina for years without being unduly worried by it. Some times have been worse than others, but I’ve lived with it for so long now that I’ve just become used to it.
Until now.
Now, I worry about the pain. Is this the one that’ll roll on into a full blown heart attack? Will I survive it if it does? Help seems so near, yet so far away too. I almost wish I hadn’t gone to the doctors originally – than a least I’d not know about the second chance. It didn’t help that the hotel was at the foot of quite a steep slope and it had to be climbed up laboriously each time we wanted to go into the town. I took it in stages, but I felt like an old man, actually, I am an old man. Men much older than me were making it up that bloody slope in quick time.
I’d give anything to take back those harsh words but I can’t. I guess the strain is getting to me a bit. When my daughter reads this I hope she’ll understand
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