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I thought this drawing by Saul Steinberg was a good illustration of where I’m at. I have been utterly exhausted this week, feeling the knock on effects of those Papworth visits.

I didn’t really think at the time, when anyway all the adrenalin is coursing around, just what an emotional and psychological toll it was to get so near only to be sent away, not once but twice in one week.

So I haven’t been able to do much at all. We went to the castle again to see if the cygnets had hatched but the swan was still on the nest. I was sitting by the wall and noticed these tiny little flowers, only 3mm or so, growing on the stone:

Our garden is looking better by the day as everything is shooting up; you can almost see the leaves growing on the silver birch we put in by the new patio:

Apart from that the week goes by in a blur, probably not a bad thing. I’ve been doing some painting but don’t seem to have produced much that I’m pleased with. These are latest:

I’ve had some pleasing complements on the big blue painting I put on the blog a few weeks ago so that is encouraging. I have three paintings that Martin has framed to go to a small exhibition in advance of the Open Studios. Pictures next time.

Always a joy is Matisse:

From feeling a bit ambivalent about the transplant I now just want it to happen. Partly because I don’t feel like going through more false alarms but mainly because I’m exhausted just trying to breathe through every day. I saw my palliative care doctor and the psychiatrist on Friday so was able to offload there.

One of the worst things is that I’ve always had a dark sense of humour that helps to deal with most things but I can find nothing at all about my lung situation to laugh about.

The Community Matron is visiting tomorrow, but I’m not sure what she’s going to do. More on that next week.

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