They don't know who I am

Tonight I am bleeding profusely with a hematuria. I feel light headed. I have an appointment tomorrow at the hospital. Just my luck that the warmest day of the year is about to hit us this weekend but I might be in hospital.

I slept when I returned from the GP this afternoon. I've eaten but feel nauseous. Three weeks of bleeding has taken its toll. I have no energy.

I have no energy to update my Twitter account. After three years of fighting Brexit I am tired. It looks highly likely that Boris Johnson will be elected to the position of PM by the Conservative Party members. The decision is out of my control. He looks likely to push through a Brexit by 31st October by whatever means, even if that means proroguing Parliament. We'll see about that. For now I just need to sit back and watch this pantomime play out. I still don't think Brexit will happen. I am just too tired now to fight it anymore.

And my family - those who ignored me, who chose to believe in this ludicrous endgame we have followed, they can continue to believe in it. It's actually more than not forgiving them for voting Brexit. They don't even know who I am. That is unforgivable.

Counting down the days

And so we are now in the Tory leadership campaign, down to the final two: Johnson or Hunt. Rory would have been good, but common sense was never going to prevail here. Last week a poll of the Tory membership revealed that they would rather break up the United Kingdom as a price to pay for Brexit. So it is confirmed - they are fanatical.

I am at the stage now that it doesnt matter who wins. Both are chasing unicorns. Hunt is probably more of a statesman, but he also says that he would pursue a no-deal Brexit if it came to it.

The world has gone mad. And this weekend the news of strange noises coming out of the 31 year old's Camberwell flat where Boris is shacked up. Where have the standards gone?

Received another offer of a kidney: a 30 year old group with a history of cocaine and steroid abuse. I would have accepted but it wasn't a tissue match in the end.

Hematuria has lasted over a fortnight. Went to the doctor's about it. They took a sample. But what can they do?

Only seven more years until my planned retirement. I'm starting to count down the days. 

Trump

I just can't, even.

And a dozen contenders for the job of PM. With Boris as the favourite and endorsed by el President.

Will the NHS really be on the table with an trade negotiation?

The State Visit is almost over. Last night we were treated to footage of the Trump family meeting the Queen for dinner. After that tweet aimed at Mayor Khan.

The demonstration outside Parliament was fake news apparently. At least the blimp was there.

Meanwhile I received a call today from my surgery, advising that my phosphate binders have been put on the "red list" and that they can only now be dispensed by the hospital.

In good news my consultant advised that I can take 2 days off from dialysis, every so often. So I'm hoping we can go to France for a short trip.