Shooting The Breeze

Six days after changing from a positive to a negative COVID condition I’m still suffering from fluctuating energy levels. In fact I was so wiped out on Saturday I slept for huge swathes of the day. Only vacating my pit to eat lunch and dinner, along with a spontaneous episode where I felt moved to…

Cutting Back On My Diary

Recently. I visited my GP surgery for an annual health checkup. This series of examinations incorporating a blood test, along with blood pressure, weight and cholesterol checks; the medical assessment brought to a conclusion by a dietary overview. The nurse who undertook the checks was happy that my weight was within recommended parameters for my…

Sixth Sense or Nonsense?

As I’m pushed for time today, in lieu of a newly crafted monologue, I thought I’d share an old narrative I wrote three years ago today; seventeen days after suffering heart attack. Some may deem regurgitating literary output from three winters ago to be a lazy approach by GJ Strachan. Detractors perhaps opining this notion…

A Huge Debt

Yesterday, in ‘celebration’ of reaching the third anniversary since suffering a heart attack, I relayed the first narrative written from my hospital bed post-cardio scare. With my gratitude to the skilled LGI cardiologist and his team still at the very forefront of my mind, today I enclose the words I penned following the heart procedure…

Fatigue

This is my first tarry to the keyboard for three days. The time between the trinity of dusk/dawns since my return from a weekend in Newcastle spent predominantly in bed; where I drifted in and out of sleep to the backdrop of audiobooks. During these hours ventures for a COVID-19 PCR test and a GP…

Unacceptable

My recent behaviour, borne from the strains of being a carer to a dementia patient, has degenerated to such an extent I can only describe my current demeanour to be that of a functioning Tourettes sufferer. The level of my cursing in prevailing times, particularly when pacing chez Strachan like a caged lion, is completely…

Button Pressing

One of the most irksome of the many challenging episodes tainting yours truly’s recent existential landscape has been my dementia afflicted mother’s recent inability to fathom how the TV remote control functions. Consequently, even the most basic of acts, such as taking the telly out of standby mode, or merely changing channel, are now as…

The Hardest Thing

Although I like to class myself as a reasonable wordsmith, locating the words to effectively express the emotions experienced when caring for someone with a vascular dementia diagnosis is a challenge. A literary impotence I’ve not previously experienced when broaching other detrital existential plot lines which’ve sullied my past decade. For instance, at no stage…

Disclosure

7am Tuesday morning – It’s a later arrival at the keyboard than of late for yours truly. Afflicted by sleep deprivation, my recent daily landscape has witnessed me normally concluding these literary trinkets by this time; before groggily wandering downstairs for brekkie. However, with slumbering until 6.45am today my fingers have only just started walking…