He weighs himself before his shower and then comes upstairs to the kitchen to tell me the latest ‘score’. It is slowing but it is still less than it was last time. There’s a part of me that wishes he wouldn’t keep doing it and keep telling me. That’s selfish. He needs reassurance. And all I can say is that you are looking well. Which is true. He says he’s lost his arse, which is also true. Am I losing him? Of course. As he is losing me. Though possibly he will go first. Today is all we have. No other promises can be made.
