I travelled into Oxford yesterday morning at 0730, making my way to the Dentist for more surgery that would take approximately an hour and a half. I was approached twice for money on the short walk from the bus stop to the dentist... the streets still mainly deserted, except for one or two delivery vans and a street cleaner. Since my lovely man died, I have felt vulnerable and always think twice before going anywhere new and on my own... silly perhaps? More a sense of survival and preservation without a tall, strong man at my side. The possibility of being accosted or robbed never entered my head before he died. The surgery went well, I awoke this morning to no bruising and no swelling... so different to the last time when I had a face like a balloon and a black eye that lasted two weeks. Perhaps the good recovery is due to being so relaxed in the dentist's chair. Having trust in someone works wonders.
I must not exert myself or do strenous exercise for a week, which would put undue strain on my immune system. So, the house was cleaned and tidied, the garden put right, bedding washed and shopping done... all pre-op! Now I can sow a few more seeds in the greenhouse and write away to my heart's content while drinking soup through a straw. Heaven, or what?
