The pattern of it

A gentle week, mostly.

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.

A rough few days. Not dangerous, just relentlessly unpleasant, the kind of unwell where you cannot read and cannot sleep and cannot settle to anything.

Very tired. Not the kind of tired a nap fixes. I slept nine hours and woke feeling as though I had been awake all night.

Sore at the injection site for about ten days, a small firm lump under the skin. The pharmacist looked at it, was unbothered, and told me to move further round next time.

Fells on Sunday.