Ah, such fine memories I have. The queer feeling in the gums, the grinding pain in the bones... and the fine narcotics to send me off to la la land. (As well as the annoying process of convincing the Dr that I was not merely engaged in narcotics grubbing)

Now, of course, I have the singular pleasure of nerve damage, nightly siezures and the like. Still, better than being dead - and a year ago I was perhaps not far from that, little more time for the tumour to grow and it would have impinged on some key plumbing which likely would have had a rather nasty effect.

Well, have to fly to Europe soon for some scans.