J is for journey

I meet with D today, a clinical psychologist with the Pain Management Team. I haven't seen her since I holidayed with Dolores and it's good to catch up. Although seeing her is usually an emotional journey, it doesn't feel like therapy, and we end up giggling like school children for an hour and a half. It was a strange concept at first - being given work to do on yourself. A bizarre school report of how, emotionally, one 'could do better'. However, after a while it becomes really interesting learning about you. I found it quite amazing that after all these years (a) I could know so little about certain aspects of my character and (b) how astute someone else could be at spotting them in such a short space of time.

I treat myself to a facial afterward - the fish oil tablets are not making any noticeable difference yet (I suppose I may have to give them longer than 2 days to work)- and I feel cocooned in a bubble of relaxation after 90 minutes of sensitive discussion. The therapist wafts 2 different scents under my nose and asks me to choose which one I find more pleasant. "Definitely the first". Turns out I have chosen 'comfort' rather than 'focused'. Enough said. After she's pasted goo onto my face she gives me a neck massage and I can feel gristly lumps crunching in my neck as her fingers move. I make a mental note to invest in a package of back massages this month or I run the risk of not being able to turn my head by the end of it.

I'm settled onto the sofa in pyjamas watching the England game when Dolores decides she wants to be heard. To be honest the first half was so bad I don't blame her - she was probably trying (she succeeds) to get me to take some tranquillizers to relieve me of the boredom. We want some of what Northern Ireland are having please - fair play to them with a win over Sweden. Something we haven't managed since 1968.

Katy

(Jam or marmalade?)