I thought I’d try the sweetcorn test.

If you eat a tin of sweetcorn and the next day, traces of said crop are visible in your crap, then you know that your colon is functioning pretty efficiently.

To that aim I ( with the benefit of hindsight ) overdid it slightly on the Movicol laxative sachets and paid the price today – or more literally my lovely carer, Victoria, did.

The process of crap/clean up/ crap again /clean up was repeated several times and I’d never have managed it by myself.

There was however, no sweetcorn…

The tangible sense of care / love that I get from my 2 incredible carers is very touching ( and contrasts very starkly with the sad indifference of my daughters and STBE – soon to be ex – wife ) .

These girls ( both 27 ) are just adorable human beings.  I’m so very glad that I have them in my life.

Last night I ( sort of ) invited myself to a dinner party at Cress and Toby’s. Cress told me not to swear as she wasn’t sure how it might go down with the disparate group that was invited.

I heeded her advice, and can state that I dropped the F Bomb far less often than either of the ladies sat either side of me.

Thank you to the men there for lifting my chair over the 3 steps as I departed, and pushing me through the gravelly driveway, where my trike electric wheel would have foundered. I think Toby thought he was back at the top of the Cresta  Run, as he pushed me at high speed down his driveway at midnight, setting me free to speed along the A316 in the moonlight.

Amazing how considerate motorists are to a wheelchair bike, and how their behaviour contrasts with my memories of years of abuse as a cyclist.  There’s Good and Bad in that observation, but I’ll concentrate on the Good.