It's good to be home. The NHS has done its wonderful best, and the first surgery went OK, I think, although I can't comment because I wasn't really there. A chunky cancerous lump was ripped from its moorings and taken away to be frowned at, or fed to the crocodiles, or exorcised, or whatever it is that they do with these things. (Look, I'm a clinical psychologist - I don't deal with the physical stuff so I don't know, OK?) I'm home and I have yarn, and I've spent the last few days Continue Reading