When you live with a body that never gets things right, well, eventually, nothing ever surprises you. Doing something incorrectly is as second nature to my body, as breathing is.
If you live in Scotland and you are aged over 50, every two years they send you out a bowel cancer test kit. All you have to do is supply a smear of your stools, from three separate dates within a ten day period, then post it back to them. It’s that simple and free, so to not do it, seems rather silly. I have to admit that I didn’t do the first one when it arrived, as it arrived on my 50th birthday, not exactly something that filled me with joy, in fact, I put it in the bin. Well, I already knew without someone rubbing it in, just how old I had become. Three weeks ago, my third test kit arrived and I once more set out to comply with their wishes. It all sounds really easy and it is, but when you have problems both with twisting your body and with your dexterity, well, it adds a new level of complexity to the whole thing. Once complete, I put it back in it’s prepaid envelope and asked Adam to post it, then set about life as always, and as always, forgetting all about it. [ ]