Its 9.50 a.m. and I'm just back from a walk. I only managed one lap of the park today with a bit of free running for Skipper along the river bank. The walk and talk lot come to the park between 10 and midday. Seeing as Skipper still has an ASBO on him, I thought I had better get out of the way. I have been thinking during the night about all the mistakes I have made and mistakes made by others regarding myself.

Last November I first visited the doctors because I felt generally unwell, short of breath and so on. I was told I had something called COPD, which was something smokers often get and was told to basically to go home, take a spray and take plenty of exercise. I got worse so I went back and was sent for x-rays. After looking at the x-rays, the medics decided I had pneumonia and I was given a course of antibiotics. These didn't work either so I was sent for a CT scan. Once the doctors had analyzed the scan, it was decided that I had cancer and the rest is history. Down through the years I have often wrongly identified things.

As a blind person I often rely on touch to identify objects and I have not had 100%success. When we first got married, we lived a cottage in St.Johns. I recall making a cup of tea once whilst Barbara was out in the garden. As I placed my hand on the draining board I touched a furry object. I recoiled in horror, shouting blue murder thinking I had put my hand on a rat. What in Heavens name I thought I rat would be doing sitting perfectly still or dead on our draining board, goodness only knows. Anyway I hid under the stairs until Barbara came in from the garden and explained that the furry object on the draining board was nothing more harmless than one of her slippers which she had reclaimed from Escort the guide dog. On another occasion while messing about in the kitchen, my hand touched a slimy object. I yelled out to Barbara that there was a bloody great slug on the draining board. The bloody great slug turned out to be nothing more sinister than a pound of sausages that Barbara had put out to defrost.

When I worked at the bank in Douglas, I use to stand outside the main doors and wait for Barbara to collect me in the car. I recall one night standing there in the company of Avril who worked with me. It was heaving with rain and I also had my guide dog Escort with me. I told Avril to go on home but she insisted on staying with me until Barbara arrived. We stood waiting in the pouring rain getting soaked. Escort was dripping rain and coated in mud. A car pulled up and Avril had the door open and Escort shoved in the back and I was hustled in to the front passenger seat before you could blink. As Escort tramped up and down on the back seat to muddy it up to the max and I sat dripping puddles of water in the front. The lady driver very politely but, none-the-less frantically, explained that I was in the wrong car. As I opened the door and dragged Escort over the front seat and out into the pouring rain, 'Sorry', just didn't seem enough. If the lady concerned is indeed reading this blog, I am indeed extremely sorry.

This blog is fast becoming an apology for all my wrong doings. Still I guess if I can be so stupid as to think a discarded slipper might be a rat, or, a pound of sausages might be a slug then I have to forgive the doctors (whose tasks are infinitely more difficult than mine) in getting it wrong from time to time.

Until tomorrow, Tom Glassey, news at 10.45. on the banks of the Silverburn river.