July 2nd, 18:05, I’m just an old Git.

July 2nd, 18:05. I’m just an old Git.

I’m just an old Git.

Not bad for my years.

Excepting, of course.

For the wax in my ears.

Sorry, I can’t credit the poet who penned this. But, for the last few days, it sums me up perfectly.

I was having trouble with my hearing, and as I am a bit of a do-it-yourself fan, I bought some drops from the chemist. They worked immediately, but not in a good way.

I became totally deaf.

This caused great amusement for a day or two, but now no-one is talking to me.

Today, liberation! I had my ears cleaned by our local surgery.

In my 87 years, I have never been in any real pain or had any serious ailments—apart from some acne on my shoulders when I was 17—even then, it was more of a bad itch than pain— but everything is relative.

 But, joking aside, I think deafness is a most debilitating condition; there was a boy at Stepgates who was profoundly deaf.

The war years meant there were no special schools for kid’s like him.

 I realise now, how desperate he must have been, not being able to join in the chatter of the playground.

I often write about the problems that the children from the poorer families in Chertsey had; poor clothing, bad hygiene and all the things that go with poverty.

But I bet he would have willingly changed places with us.

It makes me think how lucky I was.

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