When your ship is sinking you cling to the nearest thing. Mr Smith and I do a lot of clinging these days.
My headache was partially alleviated by M-C, my brilliant sewing teacher, who assured me it wasn't a brain tumour but tension. The muscles in my neck were getting tighter and tighter until I there was a danger they might snap and my head would roll off. You will all be pleased to know this will not now happen thanks to M-C's brilliant neck massage and a general calming down by me.
Mr Smith will have to do things for himself as I will be staring into space for the foreseeable future with light knitting and Corrie for mental stimulation.
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