A couple of months ago, I started getting pins and needles in my forearm, ring finger and the left half of my hand. When in full emotional flow, I was getting a tight chest and even slight pains. Obviously these symptoms are not good and my family and friends told me straight, “Call the GP… Now.’ So I dutifully called the GP. I explained the symptoms and she wanted me at the surgery ASAP. Normally it takes 2-3 weeks to get an appointment there! This was before lockdown but the surgery had a covid scare the week after My Lady passed away… No really. So I was asked to park up, call the reception and the doctor would meet me outside, fully gowned up to give me a mask, gown and to sanitise my hands. To cut a long story short, she did several tests and came to the conclusion that this was brought on by my distress and was potentially putting a strain on my heart. ‘Well that seems appropriate, given that I feel like half of it has been ripped out. So it fucking should be broken.’ I thought to myself.
After no major problems were found apart from a “blip” on the ECG test, she referred me for a chest X-ray and CT Cardio Angiogram. When she looked up from making these notes on the system, she turned round to me and with a majorly worried face, said “I think I need to give you some Valium to calm you down and help you sleep and some GTN spray (Angina medicine.) so we can do a basic test when you are in full flow.” ‘Jesus I thought, am I really that bad?’ The weird thing was that despite all these bad symptoms, I was not and am still not scared in the slightest for myself. The thought of carrying on without My Lady was just too much at the time and the only thing that motivated me to look after myself was the people that loved me and of course, My Lady’s children. I can’t imagine what this must be like for them. The only blood family they have are estranged. My blood family are mostly muppets or at worst downright rude and insensitive. All but my Father and Step-Mum (passed away) showed no real interest in the 13 years My Lady and I were together. So, it’s the 3 of us against the world. Poor Precious is living with Uni pals over a 2 hour drive away though. It’s shit.
My Lady and I were both brought up in single parent families and My Lady had to bring up Precious on her own for the best part of ten years and she had to do and be everything for her children. Now it’s my turn. I won’t lie, the thought of it terrifies me. I’m well known for being forgetful and bad with money. Four months in and I haven’t dropped any major balls. Just silly stuff that doesn’t matter. I am surprised as anyone!
The Life and Times of Lord Crookedhorn. 