A rough few days

Constipation, which I have avoided writing about for six weeks out of pure squeamishness. It is the thing making me most miserable and I have said nothing about it to anybody. That seems worth noticing.

A genuinely bad month, complained about magnificently.

Bad week and I am writing it down anyway, because a journal that only contains the good weeks would be a lie and no use to anybody reading it later.

Cramp in both calves in the night, twice this week. Mentioned it and had bloods done rather than being told to eat a banana, which I appreciated.

Right, that is enough of that.