As I sit here after coming home from the office, I am at a bit of a loss as to what to do or say. How to break the day down? To be honest I am not sure I can be bothered.

The start of the day was fairly straightforward and almost took me back to my full time working days. I got up early, that is before my wife, and had a shower and applied the ointments. Nothing too challenging there though I would have preferred my wife not to use the en-suite when I was in the shower; I am not sure I will every get used to that aspect of sharing in a partnership. Rather than putting on the shirt, suit and tie combo of past, I put on my current day uniform of blue shorts, pale yellow t-shirt and black merino jumper. I made a compromise to the temperature outside and put on a pair of long socks to give me the option of extra lower leg coverage should the cold demand it. The socks were left pushed down around my ankles though.

I made several attempts to get out of the house, going back for keys, feeding the dog and taking my hypertension pill. It didn’t feel particular cold as I got my bike out of the shed but then on clear, still days it doesn’t until I start the cycling downhill. I could feel the cold mostly on my nose, ears and the back of my thighs which presumably aren’t as hairy as the rest of the leg or was it because my shorts were scooping in the cold air; only tight shorts will tell. As I was going for a blood pressure check I tried not to exert myself on the uphill bits but anyway I was trying to get there early to make sure I had a few minutes to relax and settle my pulse. I used to get quite worked up about getting my blood pressure checked, at one point my consultant wanted to put me on two anti-hypertensives but so far I have managed to avoid that. Nowadays I try to take a more pragmatic view and just go with the flow of life and the checks have been fine for the last couple of years.

On Monday I was given the option of an 8.20am appointment or an 8.40am one; I plumped for the latter. When I reported into reception I was told I had been given both, somehow the need to have my pressure checked for my operation had been combined with my annual blood pressure check-up. So in fact I had arrived late and didn’t even have time to take off my jacket before being called in by the nurse. The measurements were taken three times, my systolic pressure was fine but my diastolic reading were in every case hovering around the 100 mark and deemed a bit high. My next appointment is on Thursday in the afternoon, the day before my operation so hopefully my medication will have a better chance to improve things by then.

I wonder if it is worth trying to loose some weight before then, or perhaps do more intensive exercise but knowing me I would get worked up because I wasn’t doing them and make things worse.

Onwards to work then, I was the first in the door but not the office (we are on the second floor) because whilst I popped out to get breakfast, a counsellor opened up. I wasn’t even second into the office because my wife was there when I got back and went upstairs whilst I sorted out my bike bag. On arriving in the kitchen, our landlord was there and he ribbed me about my blindingly bright clothing so I commented about being easily seen by car drivers particularly older ones (his mode of transport); we usually have a laugh together. I asked him about whether there were any remembrance day parades going on and the Colonel told me he needed to be split three ways to cover the things he had been asked to take part in; thankfully that technology is not available yet.

The senior partner had to see a client at 9am so I had the office to myself for an hour enabling me to look at the emails and start processing paperwork in peace, something I took for granted until my wife returned. Somehow chaos descended when she came back (at least that is how my mind reacted). The phone would ring, the doorbell would ring, emails indicating clients trying to contact us would appear, counsellors would come in wanting to talk about his and that, lorries would start bleeping outside. Whilst my wife rides the chaos, my mind melts down and I cannot concentrate on anything. I struggle on for a bit but soon take a break and have a mug of tea in an unused counselling room.

The day goes on with periods of tranquillity in the office as well as chaos, at one point though I am stopped in my tracks. We have somebody looking for a counsellor that specialises in Autism Spectrum Disorders but we have struggled to find anybody specialising in ASD to see the client. I noticed that someone was giving a talk on counselling ASD clients and suggested to my wife that she could contact this counsellor to see if they knew of other specialised counsellors nearer to where the client lived. She asked me to look up more details on the counsellor or maybe I decided to do that.

I found that the counsellor had their own website and I am impressed by what I read; I think she is somebody we would like to get to know. From my search I also found she was listed on the National Autistic Society web pages; why didn’t I think of trying there before. I then did a NAS search on Scottish counsellors and found somebody closer to the client and email the web page onto my wife. My wife shows uses the information I send her but shows no interest in contacting the original therapist and instead suggests that I might like to go and see her as a client.

My initial reaction is that is probably a good idea but I bulk at the cost of the sessions, I tell my wife this. She points out that I am willing to spend thousands of pounds to go to Canada and this is relativity little in comparison. She has a point. I struggle with this decision of contacting the therapist. I know that is better to get on and do it now, but I am unsure what benefit I want out of the relationship. What do I want out of counselling? Is there a point for me? Wouldn’t I be better to get a diagnosis first? I find myself leaning against the radiator gaining comfort from its heat whilst I stare at the contact page on my monitor screen across the room. I try to concentrate on work but the interruptions happen again and I find myself leaning on the radiator again.

Eventually tea and work break my obsession and my mind is turned to battling with software setups and hardware configurations. Way past my normal going home hours, I give up with the computer and find to my dismay that the blue skies outside have given way to clouds and rain. I am not happy about the prospect of getting cold and wet on the way home but as is not uncommon, the rain looked worst than it was and I get home only slightly damp. Pulling my socks up seemed to provide the perfect temperature for cycling home as I am breathing hard but not sweaty, it has been a while since I achieved such perfection.

Did I come to a decision over the counselling? Not yet, I feel the need to do some research.

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