Reality nibbles.

I have, having yelped like a small girl most of last night, a support sock on my left foot. Guess what? Its way better, my legs and feet aren't tip top, but they are no longer a dip into some hellish crevasse that I can't even see. Coffee and a few chocolate cookies are in. I feel a banana would probably help, though I keep hearing,
"Bananas? Awful! Sent by the devil. A curvy, yellow liar."
What? Who didn't get their payoff? Somebody lobbied very hard for that, and is now sitting on a comfy self entitled chair, with a smile you could punch, humming a tune that nobody knows. Cock.
I've been keeping an eye on the Scottish referrendum. What do I think? It would be nice to keep the union, but unfortunately we have toffs fighting our corner. And nobody likes toffs. Except them, and they love themselves enough, until reality descends in a dark room. Then its over.
Either way will be a mess, but sometimes thats needed, to clear the air.
Having had the appointment cocked up last week, today is infusion day. Up until the support sock, I couldn't see how I was going to leave my house. I now can. Goody. Chocks away for the dangerous, yet very effective blood barrier. Odds, still not awful, have at it.