My Road to Damascus

Last weekend, I was meant to begin a new job - making PPE masks Saturdays and Sundays; 8 to 5 - however, an anxiety attack during Saturday's induction meant I had to leave before I even began. After a phone call with the agency this morning; it was agreed that it was too much of an ask, too soon of a time.

Then, on Saturday, I had a sore throat, cough and sweats. I booked a Covid test at Craigavon MOT Centre. Thank God that the result was negative; I got the text yesterday morning.

Then, I had a cold yesterday evening. I decided to give myself a break and didn't attend my walking group on Mondays. I also quit my walking challenge for charity. One can't drink from an empty cup.

I feel better today; aided by the fact that my brother and I got haircuts this afternoon. The hairdresser asked me if she could wash my hair, as she suggested that I should get T-Gel. I said no thanks, and I had got T-Gel last month from Amazon. I won't put pictures of myself on Facebook; in case others think I'm gloating.

A sort of homecoming for my brother, these past eight days. But, at times, it's as if he never left.