Monday 24th January 2022 This hasn’t been a pleasant time. I keep suffering from bouts of depression, as, I think, Cyril does. It’s just over a year now. How time is speeding by! I think someone has given the planet an extra push and its spin has accelerated. I contacted St Cathryn’s and told the lady who spoke to me perhaps counselling might help me – although the truth is I still have doubts about it, but anyway, it has been arranged someone (a Nicola) will ring me at 2 PM on Wednesday 9th February and make an ‘assessment’. My thoughts are such a jumble these days; I don’t seem to be able to concentrate on anything sanely. Perhaps I am mentally disturbed. So maybe ‘counselling’ will help. Or not. Some good news: Miriam, an ex-colleague of Bumble, who now works for Virgin, has offered to get us tickets for our hoped-for trip to Florida in the Spring. The price she mentioned was attractive; and the company that supplied the ‘Clear-Click’ gizmo that converted video tape to digital has reimbursed us for the faulty one we returned, AND Fred Schoenberger, a neighbour at Circle Bay has two daughters and they want to buy the place. We think they are serious as they are offering a good price and have even given us the date to take possession. (April 15th) Plus one of them is a realtor and willing to waive the realtor fees. This is the most positive news we have had for weeks – no, months. But there is a snag. I am unable to get medical insurance. As soon as you mention cancer the insurance companies flee like scalded cats, so I am now seriously thinking of having the scan that Neil Smith offered to arrange for me. My thinking is: If the scan reveals how much the disease has spread in the seven months since the last one, which I guess it will, I may be able to work out what kind of risk I am taking by going to Florida in March and staying there for the planned six weeks. It’s a risk, whichever way I look at it. The cost of requiring medical help in the United States is beyond the pale. It would be crippling, and deliberately putting myself four thousand odd miles away from the NHS in my state could be described as stupid. A scan will help to make up my mind. It will be the last time I can stay at Circle Bay, and I really do want to go. With all this in mind I rang Neil Smith’s secretary a couple of days ago and she will ‘tell Neil you called’. View from the clubhouse at Circle Bay 2010 Some good news: Miriam, an ex-colleague of Bumble, who now works for Virgin, has offered to get us tickets for our hoped-for trip to Florida in the Spring. The price she mentioned was attractive; and the company that supplied the ‘Clear-Click’ gizmo that converted video tape to digital has reimbursed us for the faulty one we returned, AND Fred Schoenberger, a neighbour at Circle Bay has two daughters and they want to buy the place. We think they are serious as they are offering a good price and have even given us the date to take possession. (April 15th) Plus one of them is a realtor and willing to waive the realtor fees. This is the most positive news we have had for weeks – no, months. But there is a snag. I am unable to get medical insurance. As soon as you mention cancer the insurance companies flee like scalded cats, so I am now seriously thinking of having the scan that Neil Smith offered to arrange for me. My thinking is: If the scan reveals how much the disease has spread in the seven months since the last one, which I guess it will, I may be able to work out what kind of risk I am taking by going to Florida in March and staying there for the planned six weeks. It’s a risk, whichever way I look at it. The cost of requiring medical help in the United States is beyond the pale. It would be crippling, and deliberately putting myself four thousand odd miles away from the NHS in my state could be described as stupid. A scan will help to make up my mind. It will be the last time I can stay at Circle Bay, and I really do want to go. With all this in mind I rang Neil Smith’s secretary a couple of days ago and she will ‘tell Neil you called’.
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