I got baptised for Easter. I am set free
This morning, I drove to the swimming pool and then I went in and had a little swim and I drove home. And I am ecstatic. I am trying not to get too high about it, because obviously I have that Irish thing where you worry about being too pleased with yourself. We all know what happens if you get too high. You crash horribly and end up in the pits of despair for ages. Or life teaches you a lesson by surprising you with a catastrophe.
So basically I like to try and keep it steady Eddie, and avoid the peaks and troughs too much. I had the peaks and troughs in my day, and while the peaks can seem at times to be life as it is supposed to be lived, the very essence of joyful existence, the price you pay for that kind of thing is never really worth it.
But today, I can't help it. I am high as a kite. I didn't expect to be back in the pool today. I didn't expect to be back in the pool for quite a while. I certainly didn't expect to be back swimming for a few months. But suddenly, yesterday, the Doc said, in his understated way. "So you could try a bit of gentle breaststroke." I am actually so unused to hearing good news at this stage that I didn't recognise good news when I heard it.