Lockdown, Day 128
I've just done something really stupid and checked the current thinking about the symptoms I should be expecting. It was sort of reassuring that I've pretty much got them all. But the expected longevity was not so good. If I make it to 60 I will have exceeded their expectations. At the moment I should apparently, be getting my head ready for dialysis and transplant
From this evenings reading I am assuming I will never be a grandmother. At least I got to do the Mum thing once. And the chances of getting a dog are zero as I have to wait for the death of the cats first... I'm still sure Rory draws blood as a youth tonic!!
Admittedly I am now feeling even more wobbly. If I'm lucky I have 9 years left, even Dad did better than that...