And then it happened again ...

(... and again and again -- was ever a lyric so inappropriate?)

At least this time we stayed at home and didn't have to sit in Casualty waiting for the end. At least we were in our own bed with our own towels and hot water. And you were very brave.

And now we're back. Whether or not Dr Kate can help us tomorrow, whether or not there's any information at all (oh how unlikely) we're back at the start and that, more than the idiot friends, more than the blood and the sample collection and the pain, more than the same conversation over and over, more even, perhaps, than the death of that unknown semi-person, that is the saddest thing of all.

I don't even know if you'll be coming here. You decided that blogging was not the way to narrate this part of our tale. But I kind of like it, so perhaps I'll drop in every now and again.