I am not how I would like to be. I am not patient, kind, and giving. She has come in from the rain. She stands in the kitchen, her hair a mess, her eyes haggard and her breath is fast. She looks as though she might fall over. I offer her my arm and walk her to the sofa. She burbs and falls onto the cushions. I put the rug over her and the radio near her. We discover The Week lying where she sits. We had been looking for it and it was beneath her all the time. She picks it up to read. I look back at her as I close the sitting room door.
I have problems too: my tummy has been swollen for the last three months, sometimes a bit less than others, but never completely down. I had an ultrasound for ovarian cancer on Saturday and the radiologist gave me the all clear, almost. She said I had a cyst on my right ovary which she would like to have looked at again in 6 weeks time. It didn’t look cancerous. If it’s not ovarian cancer I think it's Irritable Bowel Syndrome.