Last week my consultant dropped in, without his usual team, to lay some bad news on me and make me an offer.
The bad news – no matter what – I’m probably dying from the complications of a failing heart.
The offer – don’t badmouth APH on Twitter – even if justified, and I’d get the best medical care, the alternative being palliative care. Unethical? Yep.
Naturally enough I went for the fear-induced option.
Until last night.
Then I was taking a laxative in prep for a colonoscopy and it also dawned on me that I was getting a diuretic too – hence the 15-minute trips to the toilet! What idiot does that?
I’m out of here right now. More later.