It all started on the hottest day of the year here in the U.K. My phone said it was 99 F.
An old friend was coming over, and my youngest son, Jack, had kindly cleared a route to the garden. So, when she arrived, I took the route.
We all sat in the shade 6 feet apart, which took some organizing, and chatted about showbiz for an hour. She’s a TV producer currently on furlough. My nephew, who recently won a British film award for a short film about boxing, also dropped by. My wife and I first met in the biz of show, and we spent our lives working in the field.
Not to show off (OK, maybe a little), but feeling normal again felt worth it.
I didn’t do anything extraordinary, I just tried to be part of the group. After an hour I was broiled, so we retreated to the kitchen. Jack knocked out an excellent vegan barbecue. Then, I retreated to my bedroom and bathed in the cool air provided be two frozen lemonade bottles, as suggested in a recent column.
Friday evening and Saturday were a write-off spent in bed. But Sunday started with newly found energy. So much that I managed to get on the commode on my own!
I never thought I’d brag about getting on the bog, but MS creates specialist Olympic events of its own. Making instant coffee and transporting it to your room is a modern pentathlon event for instance. I’ve also added cleaning one’s own bum, then transferring to a wheelchair, and clearing all the detritus.
No one in the family was bothered. All was quiet on the Sunday front!
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