Dot with Julia and Allan Higbee, who we visited last Friday. My last night with a catheter – at least for a while. On Saturday I went back to Edgefield Ward for its removal, and after waiting the usual two hours-plus, this was done, painlessly, by an auxiliary called Wendy. And this time I performed perfectly acceptably afterwards and was allowed home. However, it came as a bit of a blow to discover that I would have to self-catheterise. It was slightly less of a blow when I discovered what this meant, and that I could do it fairly easily, but it would be nice to be free of the whole thing. However, the guys with me in the ward were in a far worse state generally, and remarkably cheerful. I felt a bit humbled really, but at the same time unjustifiably downcast. I think I was afraid of it all going wrong again. This feeling lasted overnight, but I am now more optimistic, although I do still have this odd, tight, heavy feeling in my abdomen which I would like to go away.

Went to church on Sunday and played guitar and led prayers: a good service led by Paul. Afterwards we had a quiet afternoon watching the Olympics.

Today I tried to get some extra sleep, but was unsuccessful, although I did actually stay in bed most of the morning. Again watched some Olympics, then went up to doctor’s to take note from hospital, and Dot called in at Garden Centre to get some oasis for our party next week. Afterwards I walked home from the Ketts Hill roundabout after posting some letters. Still get tired quickly. Dot is busy organising the tables for the 31st: she is doing a great job. I need to get on with writing my speech and organising the music.