I should be gearing up for chemo tomorrow–it feels crazy that I’m not. There is a part of me that cannot believe that bit is over. I’ve got a fine layer of fuzz on my head right now, and while I realize that it will take a while for it to grow back–I know that it will grow back and I will once again recognize the girl in the mirror.
I’m having a blast in England so far. Today is my last day alone because M comes back home tonight (he’s been off on a business trip the last few days) and I will be so glad to see that man! It’s been good practice for me–wandering around by myself, but it’s very odd to be here in his flat without him next to me.
We did a bit of urbex around St. Crispin’s Asylum last week–the grounds are amazing and they’re turning them into condos, so I’m very glad I got to see and photograph the “before”. There is a fence around the grounds, so getting in involves a bit of slipping through and under, but once in–it’s just a wonderland of decay and remnants of a forgotten era. Sadly, we’d only been inside around an hour when the security guard came round and escorted us off–I’d really love for a video of our capture, though, because I was perched high on a second floor window ledge (M had rigged up a plank to get us across) like some large frightened American bird–M was completely cool and affable towards the guard, who was actually very nice (if somewhat sternly disapproving) about the whole thing.
On the way home, we discussed the adrenaline rush we both got–from both being in such a fantastically eerie spot and–let’s face it–getting caught and tossed out. I’m a little afraid we liked that too much. What if we turn into one of those couples who are constantly looking for the next rush? What’s next? Parachuting out of a plane? Bungee jumping?! eeek. I kind of hope not. I like my feet on the ground. Well, I can occasionally be persuaded to step onto a ledge. It’s the jump that I’ve always had difficulty with.