Since my experiment the other day, I have gone back to measuring my blood only occasionally. I don’t think either my hand or my pocket would have it any other way. I still measure first thing in the morning, but I am also testing to see if I can find an afternoon peak. I was high yesterday, so I injected half of my evening insulin a couple of hours early, and again today, when I gave myself the whole dose to get my levels flat again. If this drops everything down towards a hypo, then I have my evening meal to bump up my sugars.

We were out at lunchtime today, we went to a local garden centre and I had a coffee and a small piece of apple pie. Not a proper lunch I know, but how often do I lunch out?

I normally eat some very basic porridge for breakfast, but as yesterday was Easter we opened a packet of bacon, which I finished off today. Sure it was on wholemeal toast, but I wonder whether the fact that I had the bacon in a buttee came into it? I am at home again tomorrow, plus my menu will go back to my usual ingredients, so perhaps we will see?


My background is one of theoretical physics, which is pretty closely related to astrophysics. It included things like quite a heavy analysis of quantum mechanics, and in fact part of the course was a course specifically about astrophysics.

I got to be very good at physics – I’d have got a first-class degree had I been able to get up in time for lectures in my second year. By the time that I left college, I was talking to astrophysics tutors about continuing a doctorate in something to do with astrophysics. In the end, however, I wanted finally to have two pennies to rub together, so went into industry. And I can’t complain – I did very well for myself and enjoyed immensely solving technical problems, but the most rewarding thing was seeing how I used to float to the top even amongst people who had more experience, and education, in things computing. But I always retained a deep affection for astrophysics.

In the bath this morning I was listening to my Audible subscription – I’ve blogged about this before (here) but not for a while. I was listening to recordings of an old Radio 4 programme, The Infinite Monkey Cage. In the UK, Radio 4 is the “intelligent” station, mostly talk-based and quite highbrow. This programme features the famous “tv-professor” Brian Cox, and is broadly centred on astrophysics, Wonderful.


I do sometimes get disillusioned with charities. I follow a few – especially, but not restricted to, stroke charities, especially since my own brush with stroke.

In my professional life, I worked with a variety of clients and, basically, you negotiated as good a deal as you could. But there was no “career ladder”, for example. I think the high water mark for me was £800/day, about £100/hour, even this was several years ago so I would expect, in today’s money, it’d be even more. With this in mind, therefore, I pretty much consider that the biggest donation I could possibly make to a charity is my time.

But I see ads on tv (lots and lots of them!) and posts on social media, and I appear very much to be in the minority. There’s lots of fun runs, for example, but they’re all quite thinly-veiled sponsored events, basically aimed at generating cash. Exactly as I used to do on a sponsored walk, say, when I was 10 years old. It’s pretty clear, both in terms of the thrust of the adverts, and also where the recognition happens (so-and-so is a star because they raised £10000, say), that the main driver for charities is to get hold of your cash. Not your time, but your cash.

Don’t get me wrong. Money is a great enabler. With more cash, the charities can do more. I know all about being enabled as the money I earned from my job enabled me to visit luxurious hotels and restaurants, to happily head to the Mediterranean for wonderful holidays, and to drive around in a Porsche 911. So I know how, when you start off with a bundle of cash, nice things can follow.

But cash is only ever a means to an end.The ultimate goal of a charity is nothing to do wish cash, it is to help people.

I’m not speaking out of sour grapes – these comments are really just an observation. I’m not speaking because the charity work that I do goes pretty much unnoticed – in fact I wouldn’t really want it any other way. My goal in my charity work is to do what little I can to help people who’ve recently been touched by stroke rationalise what has happened to them, and in that respect, the charity itself is an “enabler”, enabling me to go onto the ward and speak to people. Plus, of course, my efforts only amount to an hour or so every fortnight, so one could hardly accuse me of working tirelessly! Indeed, my metric is, and has always been, whether my visits benefit the actual patients or relatives – so in that respect, any goals that the charity night have as regards fundraising are incidental to me. Quite simply, if I didn’t think I was helping people in some way, then I wouldn’t bother

It’s ironic, really, because my greater experiences in this area (I’d never have registered all these things a few years ago) actually make it less likely that I will donate to charities. If my wife is no longer with us, then my will specifies that my estate will go to the welfare of my animals, and I’m still happy with that arrangement.