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Please Madam

 You would think that with all the stuff I have given away, sold or taken  to the tip, there would be nothing left to chuck out but you would be wrong.  Every day I get up at 4.00am and drive to the hospital in Angers to get nuked.  I leave the car in the park  and ride and take the tram, and nearly every day the inspectors get on to check the tickets.  Not one inspector, 7 or 8 of them, entering by every door so that no-one can escape. I sit smugly watching while people are fined or ejected from the tram as the only time I didn't have a ticket was because the machine was out of order.  Yesterday I reached into my bag, pulled out my ticket and handed it to the inspector.  Her machine beeped and lit  up red.  Out of date.  I scrabbled around in my bag and found another, and another.  Eight in all, and everyone out of date.  The other inspectors had finished their inspecting and were now gathered round me watching my antics.  In desperation I emptied my bag into my lap and spotted one ticket in between my vaccine passport pages.  Ah ha, exclaimed the inspector as she triumphantly showed me her machine flashing green.  'Madam, please throw all these tickets away and only keep this one until the end of your journey, then throw it in the bin provided.'  'Yes, I will,' I replied humbly, all trace of smugness having disappeared.

The tiredness from daily doses of radiotherapy is increasing daily but exercise is important so each day I get off the tram 3 stops before the hospital and walk over the bridge and along the river.  I do the same for the return journey and it makes me feel much better, while the early morning light is supposed to be good for you.  Then by the time I get home I collapse in a heap.  Well it felt good at the time.

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