So, the pancreatic episodes continue, and Kim needed to rush me in to Emerg in January and March (on my birthday) – both times I stayed less than a day (3 hours for the first, and 12 for the second). Both times I needed no painkillers as the intense pain simply subsided after an hour of agony. On both occasions I had a glass or two of red wine the night before, so my latest theory is that mild alcohol levels are triggering things and I’m now 6 weeks into a lull in that regard, and things seem fine. Still too scared to go far from home for the moment though.
In more positive news, I started running again – beginning at a low base and working my way back. Doing 20+ minutes around the Tan was humbling, and after 8 runs I’m not sure I’ll ever get back to 15’s, but it’s slowly coming back to me. I’ve been offered membership in the Dad’s Army Running Team at work, which is humiliating since I’m not yet even 50, and I’m not ever going to be a father of a human, but I accepted since the pain is lessened listening to the stories of other runners. I even had a great conversation about the Roman Empire and the conquest of Britain whilst tottering around the MCG last week in my lunchbreak.
Our neighbours are selling up their Pascoe Vale cafe and house and heading over to Greece for a year, so have been tidying up their highly abandoned front yard, and generally are home a lot more. I’ll miss Yoda and her mother and their gregarious warmth, and think about their open future. I still think of former neighbours and wonder about their health – Betty (who is surely dead by now), Bill the TAB-loving Taxi driver with angina, and his strident, forthright Yugoslav wife Zora, who seemed to do everything around their place, and who wanted me to acquiesce to her views on plants to put in my garden and colours to paint the house. I bet they are still bickering in Coburg somewhere.