Dull days won’t pull me down.

So just look at it! The view from my study window. The prehistoric mound is lush with moisture, drizzly rain acts as a miserable screen to what should be a beautiful English Spring day and a solitary crow is flying overhead screaming its lament.

I should be feeling miserable too but, sorry, I just can’t get there.

Yesterday I had an appointment at the Brighton Eye Hospital to see about the double vision that has effected me since my brain haemorrhage in October 2008. I have been doing a series of eye muscle exercises which have made my eyes ache all the time but, yay, they seem to have worked. My eyesight has, in the words of the consultant, improved amazingly and I have been told that if I continue the exercises for a few months the condition should go and I will not need to go back for another appointment and, even better, I will definitely not need corrective eye surgery.

So you can bleat as much as you wish, crow, I am not going to be down-hearted.

Last week I had a similar experience with the throat surgeon who has been investigating my paralyzed right vocal chord and, as recorded on these pages, he too says that I am making a “remarkable” recovery with my left vocal chord making up for what the right one will not do any more. Here too I have to continue my exercises, grunting, making the sounds of a creaking door and doing various singing exercises but, eventually, like my eyes, things will return to normal with no need to return to the hospital or to have surgery.

Sorry to go on about it but, after nineteen months now of hospital appointments and worrying prophesies about surgery, I have no more hospital visits until December when I see my neurologist who will make, I hope, my last appointment for a brain scan that, she thinks, will show that the blood will have finally drained away from my brain.

I am also feeling really well for the first time since that nearly fatal day. Since this new feeling of physical and mental fitness has returned, I have been having a rush of memory flash-backs to times before the haemorrhage as if my brain is telling me who I am and who I used to be and how the two selves can finally merge together. It is a remarkably positive experience.

So rain as much as you want to English Summer, you will not pull down my spirits especially if you carry on for the next two weeks when you will be watering my garden whilst I am off soaking up in the sun in Greece.

Sorry, English readers, is that selfish of me? Sometimes crowing can be fun. Hehehe.