the interesting City of Cities (Stephen Inwood),
Truman Capote's dazzling In Cold Blood ,
and the hysterically funny Catch-22 by Joseph Heller.
The good news is that I've plenty of time on my hands to read lots more. The bad news is that it's becuase I don't have a throat infection at all but suspected TB.
You follow your principles and go work in a totally inclusive inner-city comprehensive and what thanks do you get? Some bastard child gives you tuberculosis!
There is a slim chance that I don't have it but the consultant is working on the theory that I do and I'm going along with him. (He clearly knows more about these things than me). At the moment, I officially have pneumonia.
Having got to the age of thirty-one and three quarters without any real illnesses (chicken pox excluded) it's all a bit bewildering. I've had more x-rays, scans, tests and consulations in three days than the previous three decades. I've got my first ever anaesthetic next week when they stick something up my nose and down my throat to my lungs. Sounds bloody delightful.
I'm off to the clinic and shall then settle down on the sofa with Donna Tartt's Secret History.I think book reviews, boredom and odd comments on the news are all you're going to get for quite some time. Unless there's any interesting people-watching to be had in the hospitals of course.