D-Day minus two

Doom Day minus two. In Hundon, it is half-term, so MA and her family are away at the seaside, enjoying the last of the late summer. Ann has volunteered to look after her many animals, including the dogs. They are strong and lively, too much so to manage alone, so we walk them in pairs. 

Once things go wrong, they seem to keep going wrong. If I believed in omens, another one was thrown at me today. It took the shape of a paper I submitted to a physics journal about six weeks ago. I hadn't heard from them, so went on the site again today to check its progress. The paper had completely disappeared - no trace of it, and no record of having received it or of its rejection. All I could do was resubmit and hope it makes some progress through the system.

I get very tired now. We go to town, looking for winter jerseys for Ann, but I have to wait for her over a coffee in Waterstones. Visiting a bookshop was always a joy, to browse new titles and choose something unexpected almost at random. Today the excitement is gone, as I drift among the sections. Even Terry Pratchett fails to appeal - usually certain to provide a relaxing read. This cloud is depressing me before I even have the op or the treatments. Not a good omen for what is yet to come.

Ann says I can get some Viagra once I've recovered. I say I'd be embarrased to ask for it in Clare, I'd have to go to somewhere I won't be known. Ann says I can go disguised as a Mexican, with a huge moustache covering my face, and call myself Poncho Villa, but I'd probably forget and say "I'm Aston Villa".