Thursday was the drip, then Friday feeling pretty much as I was after cycle 3, Saturday I felt that tiredness all day and some woolly-headedness, nevertheless decided I was going to be well enough to go fly fishing on the Sunday. How wrong could I have been? Suffering really badly with constipation on Sunday morning, I spent forty fruitless, sweating minutes on the toilet, before deciding to drive to the fishery, fingers crossed that their toilet would be operational. It was, but I wasn’t. Put the rod up, got everything else ready and tried the loo again. What a relief!, but the tiredness had now turned into deep fatigue. Faint heart, however, never won fair maid so I decided to try and give it a go. Full details are on my fishing blog, but in short I caught my brace of trout, hooked another for a friend and passed his rod back to him so he could fight and net the fish. I spent more time sitting in the shade of a big willow, only venturing out to have a cast or two, before resting and chilling again; Temperatures in the sunshine were mid-thirties centigrade once more, two or three bouts of dizziness took me by surprise, but I didn’t actually topple headlong into the water, so that’s a bonus. I packed up before midday, and headed off. Home again I felt washed out, and lay on my bed to sleep for a badly needed couple of hours. Being the weekend we’d had family members visit both days and some stayed over, but my contribution to the goings on was minimal I’m afraid. Next day I was a tad improved, but still tired and listless. Tuesday I was a little less tired and more like the ‘new normal’ but still had a very quiet day and decided not to go to the weekly fly tying session. Its Wednesday now, we’ve had another problem with the meds supply, but mission control is all over it, and I’m hoping we should be onwards and upwards from here.
