3:30am. I should think about going to bed now, after having only recently got back from hospital after possibly the most painful and least dignified night of my life. Nobody in their right minds needs to know details: for a clue just re-arrange the words “drain”, “groin” and “abcess”.
I have spent most of the week in either discomfort or pain in the blind hope that it would all go away on its own, but tonight it just got too much and I went down to Crawley Hospital. I was thinking maybe there would be brief nasty experience on the wrong end of a sterilised needle or something and didn;t expect to be sent up to East Surrey Hospital straight away to have scalpels wielded dangerously close to the family jewels.
I’m absolutely knackered, but just trying to postpone the need to climb all those stairs. And also trying not to think about how it might feel when the dressing gets ripped off on Saturday and I end up with half a ‘Brazilian’.
Be thankful I am not Kerron so will not be supplying photos of the ‘affected area’ 
Have you heard of the categorisation of political activists into...
I knew cycling had a downside. Rob is still curled up, all foetal and whimpering at the very thought…..