Symptoms. Appointments. Tests. Diagnoses. Differential diagnoses. Treatments. Drugs. Drugs to counteract the effects of earlier drugs. Surgery? No surgery. And finally, a rejection of a medicalized interpretation and an emphatic setting aside of drugs, treatments and advice.
What I really need is fresh air, gorgeous surroundings and free space to ramble about in. Derbyshire maybe. Or the Lakes.
Yes, I can see the benefit of a complete change, but what if something bad happens and you take a turn for the worse? I mean, will you even be able to walk in all that free space?
I’d rather take a turn for the worse somewhere beautiful. Please, just load the tent and stuff in the car and let’s go.
So they did. They set off without a grand plan but with memories of places worth a revisit.
You know that road between Sheffield and Manchester? Has an inn somewhere along it?
Yes, the A57. Snake Pass. Always getting closed in wintertime.
Can we start at the highest point and just drive down following the twists and turns?
So they did this too, camping overnight in woodland and star gazing deep into the night. They thought a little about tomorrow and how they might try for some food at the remote inn.
We should take the car. It’s a tough trek up and down the hill and we can leave our camp things here.
A poignant reminder of past holiday walks in the Dolomites, Northern Madeira and beyond.
The meal was excellent and the conviviality and laughter of the pub-goers put the recent worry and medical settings and serious consultations into abeyance. That was then and now was somehow much more promising and full of light-heartedness and singing. Something that had been lost under a leaf canopy of pessimism seemed to be creeping back as life stirred on the forest floor.
A refreshing sleep, in spite of the nocturnal sound track, brought forth plans. These were ambitious plans for small achievements: extending walks and attempting to find hidden secrets which the Ordnance Survey map hinted at but did not fully reveal, still less describe.
There were no time limits and few boundaries, apart from the pub hours in what they now considered their local. Taking deep breaths, walking two trees further than last time, testing stamina for inclines – these were self-imposed targets.
No turn for the worse was taken. Indeed health seemed to be reasserting itself. Looking from a high point at and the twists and turns of the Snake, they agreed it was time for home but that they must take time out like this very often.
Just look at the way that road weaves along. Not a straight bit in sight. It feels like the path I was on with anxiety round every corner.
Yes, it’s been a funny old route these past couple of years. Nothing like a twisty road to set us straight. Come on let’s get going.
