Pillow talk......no, not like that, lol.

I've remarked previously that I try my best to keep this blog as positive as possible: 'you don't come here to see me moan" and all that......

Unfortunately, this week, that's proving very tough to do. Admittedly, there have been good bits - the email from the Derby Telegraph at 1pm on Thursday, asking if I could go in at 1pm on Friday ("yes, of course"), the good connections made at 4Networking in Lichfield on Thursday morning, the continuing stream of donations for my charity run (go to uk.virginmoneygiving.com/MartinWarrillow, where I'm nearly up to £1,000) but they have been overwhelmed by incidents which have reminded me of the precarious nature of life as a stroke-survivor. 

There was one on Saturday which I will mention but can't, for various reasons, expand on; there was the incident on Sunday afternoon when Mrs W had to order me out of our local branch of a well-known German discount supermarket before I got into a fight with someone; there have been the reminders that while I am unable to work, money will be a constant cause of resentment and argument at Warrillow Towers; there have been the "I'm more tired than you' arguments which all this naturally leads to; there have been the headaches, wobbly walking, fatigue, having to look at new ways of dealing with worry; there have been the fears that although I am back behind the wheel of a car, I could be just a step away from something going horribly wrong (the A5 at 9.30pm in a monsoon when the only traffic seems to be you and a host of foreign-driven 30-tonne articulated lorries is not fun); there have been the reminders that looking after my diet is more important than ever (like most, if not all, journalists, I am too used to eating on the hoof); there have been the "Why me" moments which all strokies have and which I usually tell people they should avoid; the frustrations of the useless British weather which leave me feeling more or less permanently cold and the blood-thinners I have to take which mean I bleed for England. All in all, it's not been my best week.

Thankfully, # breathebalancebeactivatedEmily got hold of me on Tuesday, told me I needed to get some of this anger and frustration out and we started doing some boxing moves. It certainly helped (at least until Emmerdale came on the TV at Warrillow Towers last night, lol) and it's something I'm keen to pursue. She's suggested I find a handy pillow to beat the **** out of when I'm feeling like I have this week. 

Certainly sounds better than beating it out of fellow shoppers, doesn't it?