I haven't been feeling the best over the last few weeks; if I am totally honest, my various health issues seem to be overtaking my life again. Suffering from IBS can be debilitating and I do have good and bad days. On a perfect day, I can function at near normality and be more or less pain free. However, these are rare days now and the majority of the time I do suffer from discomfort, to differing degrees.

A few days ago I had a gallbladder attack, something I have only experienced on two other occasions. After the last strike, I had adjusted my diet and lifestyle to accommodate for my gallbladder disease diagnosis. I began eating much smaller portions, followed a strict low Fodmap diet and exercised on a regular basis. All of these changes calmed the chronic problems I have, and I really began to feel like I was winning. Some days I actually forgot I even had any conditions at all.

My diagnosis of IBS feels rather tenuous at times. One has to remember I was given this prognosis at a time, when I had no quantifiable illness to otherwise contradict the Doctors judgement. Today I have gallbladder disease, a hiatal hernia, Diverticular Disease, Kidney stones and gastritis. Added together, they make for  hellish Gastrointestinal function, that can be impossible to stabilise. Whether I have IBS on top of this is debatable in my opinion, but the specialists do seem to think I have very bad symptoms, because of all these ailments. I can understand that and do whatever I can to ease the ongoing pain.

Medication, natural herbal remedies and digestive enzymes, together with a healthy lifestyle, including no alcohol and smoking have all started to produce results. I have been feeling markedly better, so much so, I took my eye off the ball and started eating the wrong things. Since Christmas, I have put on over a stone in weight and the aches and pains have come back with a vengeance, culminating in that gallbladder attack in the middle of the week.

I know when I've had a pummelling from that useless gallbladder, that in my case stopped working properly several years ago. The pain is like nothing I have endured before. Radiating across my chest, upper back, abdomen and arm, it is akin to childbirth (so I am told.) I initially thought I was having a heart attack the first time I had one, but today realise how important it is to try and ride it out. The pain was so intense on Thursday that I violently threw up for two hours and really thought I might have to phone an ambulance. However, as fast as it began, it disappeared and exhausted, I was able to operate normally once again.

At the end of April, I have an appointment with rheumatology at Queen Alexandra Hospital, so I can finally get some answers as to what is occurring. It is believed I have Fibromyalgia, but Rheumatoid Arthritis is still a possibility. They may well be able to help with my gastro issues, if there is a link between the two. I am also still awaiting a gallbladder removal operation and at least three other procedures, to give a more concrete analysis of just what is going on. I hope it isn't too much longer before I can get back to some semblance of normality and live a more fulfilled life. Until then, I guess it will be more of the same, until I can get to the end of this sorry saga, that has plagued my life for far too long.

After the awful week I've had, I'm hoping for a quieter, less intense seven days ahead. Careful eating and stepping back from those naughty habits, that have returned once again, should hopefully pay dividends. I don't want another bout of pain again, at least in the short term, otherwise next time I will end up in A&E, not a place I want to be right now. A change in diet is the first step to regaining the upper hand and until the pandemic ends and operations are carried out, it is the only tool I have to get me though. With a positive outlook and understanding network of friends, I'm hopeful life will finally return to convention and my mind can concentrate on bigger and better things!

On Thursday I finally had my first vaccine administered at St James' Hospital in Portsmouth. I can't begin to describe the emotions I felt, as I drove up to the facility in the taxi. This was no ordinary vaccination hub; it was big, there were stewards everywhere directing us towards the long line of traffic taking people to the entrance. I can't actually believe how well-organised and smooth the process was; when I got out of the car, I was genuinely excited to be receiving my jab, a year on after we entered our first nationwide lockdown.

I joined the queue of people heading through a marquee towards the hospital. After showing my booking reference and National Health number, I was allowed into the ward, where I was shown to a seat and a nurse made some final checks. Jacket removed, sleeve rolled up I was given the AstraZeneca vaccine into my left arm. I have had a lot of injections over the years, most recently the Pneumonia jab, but this one felt like it went deeper and if I am honest hurt more than usual. The whole process was over in just a few minutes, and I was happy to be finally vaccinated.

There have been so many scare stories coming out of Europe in recent days, about the dangers of having the AstraZeneca vaccine. Citing blood clots as a major concern, I was initially in two minds about having it in the first place. I did however do some research of my own and discovered most of the information coming from the Continent wasn't quite as it seemed. After analysing the data, it looked like there were less blood clots recorded after the vaccine was given, than there otherwise would be. Any set of figures can be manipulated to suit an agenda; it is highly likely there was a political motive behind Europe suspending the use of the AstraZeneca vaccine.

My biggest fear was the side effects from the vaccination; everyone I knew who had it, were suffering effects to different degrees. Headaches, chills and fever were commonplace, so I was expecting something very similar. After getting home, I took a couple of paracetamol and waited for the worst to happen. To my surprise however, nothing manifested; after six hours, I was feeling the same I had all day and with an early start tomorrow I went to bed, expecting to wake up in a sweaty mess at some point during the night.

My alarm went off at 4 am, I had slept right through, not waking up once and felt good. There was still no side effects and I got ready to go to work as normal. I did have a slight ache at the front of my right thigh but nothing more. As the day went on at work, I still felt OK, maybe a little tired but otherwise alright. By the time I woke up this morning, my arm was throbbing and felt bruised all over, but everything else was perfect; no headaches, no fatigue and yet another good nights sleep. I guess I won't be suffering like some people, which is great for me. Nevertheless, my lack of symptoms has got me worried about whether my immune system is working as it should be, since this vaccine is supposed to produce some form of immune response.

Once again I did some reading, and it appears you don't have to feel ill or suffer adverse effects for the vaccine to work. It looks like I am just one of the lucky ones, who didn't get a bad reaction. It may well have something to do with my age and immune system not working as good as it once did, but then I have never had any form of after effects from any vaccine I've had; it just, just might be part of my genetic make up. Whatever the reasons, I am just glad I have had the jab and can feel confident that in a few weeks, I will be party protected from COVID-19 and by June 9th, after my second inoculation, I will be as safe as I possibly can.

It looks like we are finally reaching the beginning of the end of the pandemic. Over six hundred thousand people had the vaccine on the same day I did and for that reason, we must all celebrate. As days turn to weeks and months, I am sure we will all finally get back to normal and start once again where we left off. The vaccine roll out is such a triumph here in the UK because of the NHS and their hard work, it has nothing to do with our Government; their record is a disgrace. When future generations look back on this period in fifty, one hundred years time, they will be the ones to make the final judgement on our success or otherwise, until then we are the one's who need to continue doing what we can, to ensure all of us are protected and kept safe. The day is coming, when all of us can  breathe a sigh of relief, throw our masks to the wind and call time on Coronavirus and the devastation it has wreaked!

I've always had a keen interest in all things spiritual, believing in an afterlife and the power of mediums to channel energy. Whilst searching through some personal items today, I came across a cassette tape, produced by Terri Day in 2002, during a psychometric reading I had with her in December of that year. To be honest, listening to that recording today, I have been transported backwards twenty years. I remember the conversation I had with her in her House in Salisbury. She was an extremely nice, agreeable person, who through the power of jewellery, tried to analyse me and my life. Terri came highly recommended by a friend and at the time, sceptically, I took the plunge and booked an appointment to see her.

In many respects I have always been open to people like Terri; I really do believe there are people who can see past the earthly plane we live on. As a person who is constantly seeking answers for different aspects of life, Mediumship offers a way to make sense of confusion, in a way we can't always determine ourselves.

I have included an extract from the recording on that day, so readers can make what they will of her abilities. At the time I thought she was remarkably accurate in her assessment of my life, but much of what she said could have been interpreted in any number of ways. She didn't really tell me anything enlightening or miraculous; in fact she misunderstood many aspects of my life, especially my personal life. Her evaluation was completely off kilter, referring to my partner Darrell as 'her' and not even understanding we were living and working together on a daily basis. Today, listening to the recording I am disappointed at her reading and can only come to the conclusion, that she wasn't necessarily the person she claimed to be.

That is quite difficult for me to say, admitting that a Clairvoyant wasn't accurate, but that is the truth of my experience; I can't say I recognised much of what she said. I am not saying for one-minute Miss Day was fraudulent or deceptive in nature, but I don't believe she had clairvoyant ability. Nevertheless, Terri sparked an inquisitiveness in the supernatural side of life for me. Her reading in 2002 was the beginning of an interest in the occult that still remains prominent and part of who I am.

I began to read and appreciate the different ways one can tap into the unconscious and really understand a person. I spent the next ten years studying Chiromancy or Palmistry to the layman and entered a World that gripped my imagination. So obsessed with the meaning of life and how to interpret our journey in this World, I turned my interest into a passion, that still exists today.

I would often read friends and strangers hands and would not only surprise myself, but also others, in just how much you could tell about another person, just by looking at the lines on the palmar surface. I have often been blown away by the circumstances and events I have seen mapped before me; I truly believe all of us have the ability to understand ourselves more, by looking at the lines on our hands, but acknowledge it isn't always possible for everyone to grasp that narrative before them.

In complete contrast to Clairvoyance, Palmistry offers a tangible insight into a persons mind. Mediumship relies on faith and a belief in an individual; we are hopeful they are honest and true and can do what they portend, but there will always be an element of trust involved. A Medium can research and investigate, to obtain information by dishonest means. Only the person having a reading can really determine if it is sincere and reliable. Throughout my audience with Terri, I didn't feel entirely comfortable with her commentary and if I am brutally honest, she didn't really understand who I was at all.

Then of course there was the so-called psychic who had spent three months living with my dead Grandmother. When a work colleague contacted me, claiming of her ability to contact the afterlife, including my Grandmother, I was in no position to disbelieve her. This unscrupulous person even came to my home as a trusted friend and confidante, to help Darrell and I meditate and open our minds to the concept of the spirit world. Spending an hour 'opening our chakras,' she spuriously pretended to help us see past our own scepticism. Self-evidently, it was all nonsense and this unethical reprobate, just wanted to cause us maximum hurt and pain. For a while I did believe her and thought she was a friend, but as time moved on, I saw past the lies and her disruptive shenanigans, discovering she wasn't the person I thought she was. Most people understood her true nature at the time and could only shrug, hold their hands in the air and say, they told us so. I only had myself to blame, wanting to believe in her more than anything else; I was blinded from the truth!

My next brush with the transcendental came with a trip to see my all-time hero 'Psychic Sally,' at The Mayflower Theatre in Southampton. I used to watch her television show all the time, as often as I could. When I found out she was going on tour, I just had to go. I had high expectations for the evening, but sadly ended up very disappointed. Her live performance was particularly mediocre, and I didn't feel she was genuinely tapping into the spirit World. My interest in her diminished shortly afterwards and her perceived lack of ability turned me away from parapsychology completely, as I sort answers to problems elsewhere. I am not saying for one minute that Sally Morgan was a fake, far from it, but she just didn't connect with me, in a way I hoped she would; for someone seeking answers, that is important!

Today, I continue to read palms when I can and still have that curiosity in divination, I think I probably always will. I have a packet of tarot cards, placed under my bed, wrapped in a silk scarf and often ask them questions. I watch 'Most Haunted,' read my horoscope in the newspaper and stumble across fortune telling websites; Yes, I still have an enthusiasm for anything that can't be explained. However, I am more realistic with rationales and remain a sceptic, until convinced to the contrary. Something inside me will always want to believe, no matter how much I am persuaded otherwise, but until I really understand the nature of spirituality, I will continue to wrestle with my conscience, searching for aggregates and reading between the lines!

I've had a bit of a funny week this week, probably because I've had too much time on my hands. About a year ago I took a DNA test, as I tried to trace ancestors for my family tree. I had a high degree of success as well, finding relations all over the World, although how I ended up with family in some of the more obscure places, is anyone's guess. My Grandfather was a merchant seaman, so collating all the information, one could assume many possibilities. Discovering cousins from every corner of the globe and their connections to me and my lineage is a story, for another day, but it has made me delve deeper into my DNA.

Last week I was contacted by a medical research company who asked if they could use my  DNA data for research they were carrying out, and I agreed; the results were eye-opening and one hundred percent accurate. For example, I had confirmation, that I had keloid skin, something I already knew, from an operation I had in the 1980s. Also, I discovered my blood group, which is 'A' and not what I expected at all. I always believed I had an 'O' blood type, but apparently not. Of course, being someone who suffers with health anxiety, I decided to look up the implications of this new revelation and was horrified at the result. It seems that 'A' blood types are weaker in every sense. It was the oldest of all the groups, but also the one with a shorter life span, more incidents of cardiac arrest, stroke and cancer and... the list goes on. By the end of the research, I was ready to just give up on life altogether. In truth, I wish I hadn't bothered to discover my blood type, it has just caused me more anxiety than ever. As someone who suffers from OCD, this isn't one, I'm going to let go!

I also noted that people with blood type 'A' were more susceptible to COVID-19, not something a sensitive homosexual with health anxiety really wants to hear. True to form, I looked closer at the implications and discovered the statistics used to back up these findings, were not quite as they seemed. We are indeed more vulnerable to Coronavirus, but we tend not to get it as severely, with lower numbers of my blood group ending up on a ventilator needing intubation. Honestly, I got so engrossed with reading about the negative aspects of 'A' blood types, that I literally had literature everywhere - One article contradicting another, differing views and opinions, papers and journals; in the end I just gave up, none the wiser, about my blood type relevance!

Having suitably wound myself up, over my own mortality, it was quite apt that I had an appointment at the cardiac clinic here in Portsmouth this morning. My Doctor had ordered a cardiology test, due to an abnormal ECG I had a few months ago, ongoing arrhythmia problems and continual dizzy spells since April. I attended a distinctly deserted unit at 8.15 am this morning, where I was told I had to wear a 'holter monitor' for seven days, so my hearts activity could be evaluated, in order to discover any abnormalities that may be occurring. Wearing one for seven days will be a bit of a challenge, especially whilst sleeping at night, but it is something I have to do. Dizziness, blurry vision and unsteadiness has been plaguing my life for the last nine months, and I need to find answers.

Various Doctors and consultants have mentioned a possible connection with my heart problems and Coronavirus, something I have thought about myself.  I am however mindful of my own level of fitness. I have put on a stone in weight since Christmas and the anxiety and stress I suffer with every day, seems to be exacerbating the symptoms. On the plus side, my blood pressure appears to be stable, but my heart rate irregular and much slower than it was. I am just hoping I can begin to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible.

After speaking to Darrell over the last few weeks, he also has his own problems to deal with. Both of us are heading towards our respective 50th Birthdays, with all the difficulties that entails. Neither of us are getting any younger and after living a rather fulfilled life shall we say, we are both aware of just what is around the corner. As someone who smoked cigarettes for well over thirty years, I understand I won't be living to a ripe old age, but having changed my outlook dramatically in recent years, I am hoping to mitigate the future somewhat. Like everyone, I just can't predict what will happen tomorrow, so I am doing my best to influence the consequences of my actions now and live a healthier, better, more productive life, as all of us should, especially as we navigate this new COVID era!

I've had three days off work with plenty of things to do, but have actually done very little if I am honest. I started watching the five part Channel 4 drama 'It's a Sin' on Friday, and it has kind of taken over my thoughts. On Saturday, I did manage to get out and go for a seven-mile walk, but even then, I just couldn't stop thinking about this programme. Walking around Portsmouth, I felt lucky to be alive, enjoying the sea air, beautiful scenery and timeless coastline, that I have visited many times before. Nevertheless, as I sat on South Parade Pier, looking out across the water, I remembered a time, not so long ago, when my life wasn't so simple, a period not unlike today, full of fear and anxiety.

'It's a Sin' took me back to the 1980s, growing up gay during the AIDS epidemic and at a time of great social change, trying to discover who I really was, surrounded by hate, disapproval and trepidation. When I look back to my teenage years, I am reminded of the pain and difficulties I went through, trying to 'come out' in a World that just didn't care. There was no understanding or acceptance from those I regarded as close, because they never knew I was gay. There was no shoulder to cry on, when my feelings for someone else, weren't reciprocated, because they didn't see me as I really was. Above all there was no support when I needed it most, because I wasn't allowed to ask the right questions, seek the correct answers, or talk to somebody, anybody who could help me figure out the feelings I wrestled with every day. I was alone, unhappy, frightened and scared, during a period when gay men were hidden from society, afraid to admit their sexuality.

Towards the end of the 1980s I was fully aware 'people like me' were falling ill, dying alone, rejected by family and friends and unable to be close to partners. Thrown to the sidelines, by bitter, vindictive parents, who only saw them as the catalyst for their sons 'perverted' lifestyle, they were left to pick up the pieces, often without recognition of a lifetime spent with the person they loved. This was an undemonstrative time, where most people only thought about themselves, greed was the religion of the day and gay men like me were left abandoned and alone, by the very people who should have been there for us; this was the saddest time of my life!

During the early 1980s, I was just a small child, trying to find my feet and had no understanding of the AIDS epidemic beginning to sweep the World. It is still a shock to me now, that gay men refused to accept this virus could kill them, and it was all made up in the minds of those at the top, to stop them having sex with each other. The links to the COVID pandemic today are stark and clear. Coronavirus deniers, like those who rejected the existence of AIDS, are as vocal today as they ever were. In the 1980s HIV/AIDS was an imaginary illness, propagated to eradicate homosexuality. Here in 2021, COVID is a hoax and a ploy to control the masses. For those of us who lived through the worst of the AIDS crisis, this is a repeat of the same idiocy, indistinguishable stupidity and identical misrepresentation touted forty years ago, a dangerous repudiation of the facts in the face of disaster. We are indeed repeating the mistakes of the past.

Although I enjoyed watching 'It's a Sin' over the last few days, I have been left feeling rather melancholy and downhearted. This series was poignant, moving, wonderfully acted and full of memories from my past. However, it was also extremely painful to watch, triggering some significantly upsetting and uncomfortable evocations, I thought I had laid to rest years ago. It is clear that no matter how traumatic the 1980s were, they will never leave my consciousness. The pandemic we are living through today, will equally remain a tragic reminder of, the mistakes made by people who understood  nothing from history and the failings we never seem to redress. Once again a generation will pay for the miscalculations of the few and the irresponsibility of the ignorant!

Today, thinking about what to write, I find myself a little stumped. For the first time in God knows how long, I just can't think of anything to mention, that is causing me concern, or something else I just need to get off my chest. As weeks go, it has been a pretty mundane one for me, and although the World seems to be imploding around us, I have just blocked out most of the bad stuff and concentrated on me for a change.

Usually I would be glued to the television, absorbing the Coronavirus news and expressing a view on the Governments handling of the virus, but today, I just don't have an opinion. I've been feeling rather apathetic about the whole sorry saga if I am honest, and often feel I am banging my head against a brick wall. Of course, I express opinions on social media, just like everyone else, which doesn't always go down well. My sentiments are not shared by everyone and I get upset at their lack of respect for all key workers working hard during this pandemic. Sometimes, I just have to bite my tongue and ignore the Covidiots, as much as I would like to take them to task.

I had to go to the opticians this week to get my eyes tested, not something I particularly wanted to do in the current climate, but absolutely necessary, considering how bad my eyesight has got in recent times. Dizzy spells, blurred vision and headaches, have been plaguing my life, especially since April 2020. Naturally I am concerned about why this is happening, and I have tried different things, to find the cause, including stopping medication. I have managed to reduce the beta blocker  medication, Propranolol I have been prescribed by two thirds and  have stopped taking my blood pressure medication altogether. This may well seem dangerous to some, but I am continuing to monitor my blood pressure almost daily and so far there doesn't seem to be any detrimental effects.

On top of this change of regime, I have stopped smoking and drinking, and I am doing all I can to stay healthy. Obviously because of IBS, I have also had to adjust my diet and I did have concerns that the gallbladder disease I have, may also be contributing towards malabsorption issues, thus causing dizziness through lack of nutrients. Supplements of magnesium, to counteract the lansoprazole I have to take, vitamin D, a probiotic pill and enzyme tablets to help with the food intolerances, have not worked as well as I would have expected, but I do have good days and I just hope I get to the bottom of my ongoing troubles soon.

Attending the opticians was a chore in itself, greeted by staff in full PPE and having to undergo a more invasive test than I would have liked. Sat there as the optometrist moved close to my face, shining a bright light into my eyes, I literally grimaced under my mask. I haven't been that close to anyone in over a year, and it was a rather uncomfortable feeling. I did ask him, in a rather light-hearted way, if he was safe, to which he replied  'are you?' He assured me he was tested regularly, and I was as safe as I could be under the circumstances. I can't say I was suitably  reassured, but, I was resigned to the fact, that life does have to carry on.

No significant issues, pointing towards a sinister reason for my dizziness and disorientation was found, and I was left none the wiser about my current state of health. My eyesight has deteriorated since my last test and I ordered new glasses in a procedure highlighting the strange times we are living through - sanitizing lenses, plastic gloves and socially distancing, whilst trying to be fitting for new spectacles. Forty-five minutes later, I breathed a sigh of relief and was out of there, another diagnostic done, many more on the way.

My next appointment is to undergo cardiac assessments and investigations at the end of this month and I should hopefully be a step closer to understanding just what is happening. Until then, I am working harder than ever, have very little time to myself and am glad to keep busy. Like everyone else I am looking forward to the end of winter and a move towards better days, constantly aware of the dangers that lurk around every corner and hopeful the measures I take to keep myself safe, continue to pay dividends!

Stay safe everyone!

I've had a number of things on my mind recently, especially over the last few days, with the dawn of Brexit. Darrell and I intended to return to Spain to live, once this pandemic is over. It is a country we both love and were proud to call it home for several happy years. I often think of my time there and the friends I left behind. Both of us worked harder than anyone to achieve our resident status, retaining our respective residency permits, even today. It does look as though Brexit may well have changed all that, and a return to our old life in Gran Alacant, is just an unobtainable dream.

After looking into the subject of residencia, it would appear our Spanish status has already lapsed, because we have been outside the country too long. This isn't entirely set in stone of course, and I have messaged a legal representative to discover if we would have to reapply for residency, or if we could carry on where we left off. Our intention was always to return one day, once our family circumstances had changed and the pandemic was over, but we just aren't sure if it is viable any more.

Both of us fought very hard for our aspirational life and neither of us want to give it up that easily, but the truth is it may not be right for us now, as it was when we left in 2016. Neither of us are getting any younger and my reliance on the National Health Service, since I returned to Britain has been palpable. I'm not sure I would be able to have access to the Spanish system in quite the same way. Navigating the health care system in Spain, was proving difficult, whilst I was living in Gran Alacant; when my social security contribution was cancelled by my employer, without informing me, I was left with little choice, but to get private health insurance, of a sort.

The expense involved for Darrell and I, having to fund my own health care, was particularly hard. Having to work in a job, that was out of my comfort zone was also difficult, especially when you have an employer who lacked the dignity, compassion and empathy of a decent organisation, with morals and a real sense of direction and purpose. Struggling on the Spanish minimum wage, having to deal with unscrupulous svengali type characters, is not something I want to have to do in my fifties.

Both Darrell and I still have our hopes for the future, and they remain very much the same as they always have done. We continue to be travellers at heart and do not want to live in the UK full time. We have never really settled anywhere, buying property in France, living in Australia and Spain as well as moving to the north. I suppose Spain became the closest to the home I have always wanted, but that's not to say we can't have that somewhere else, abroad, with a better climate, more congruous to our way of thinking.

I have a feeling that the end of Britain's membership of the EU will be the beginning of a new adventure for both of us. When things get back to normal, we will once again have to make a decision about where our future lies. Brexit may well have closed European doors, but it has opened many more as a result. There is a whole World out there and if Spain or any other Continental nation isn't a possibility, then moving further a field maybe the answer. There are many parts of the planet we haven't explored, and we may just keep travelling forever, only settling when circumstances so desire. For now all dreams are open, all destinations a probability!