It’s not been unknown to find me getting a bit sneery at wild medical claims for various tea infusions and at first glance this one…
Martyn Winters: Author, Composer, Musician
Category: Health
Before I get stuck into my thoughts on my ten a day tomato habit, I’d just like to pause for a reflective moment. I’ve just closed Twitter and Facebook. Just the pages, not the accounts. The Coronavirus news is filling me with too many morbid thoughts. So I thought I’d take a break for an hour, just to ease the pain.
On the day that the USA passes twenty-six thousand dead and the UK homes in on thirteen thousand, I find a dental nurse from Sketty – just down the road from me – has fallen victim to the disease. I looked at her photograph and imagined her previous life and premature end. It’s not a face I know, but one you see on passers-by without thought of what their life is about. Now I’m imagining what life must be for her husband, son, sister and parents, all of whom are now suffering unimaginable grief. Rest in peace, Linette, my thoughts are with you.
A decade or more ago, I used to suffer from chest pains. Once, when I was travelling as a passenger in a car, it was so severe I asked the driver to take me straight to hospital. She looked sceptical, but I insisted, so she acquiesced and took me to Princess of Wales in Bridgend, where they did a battery of tests. They kept me in.
“Just as a precaution” the doctor said. She was a young, pretty woman with unfortunate hips and a kind manner that seemed genuine. By that time I was dying for a cigarette, but they had already confiscated those, along with my clothes, shoes, money, and watch. I had abandoned my pre-rolled joint in the car park, anticipating this and spent my time wondering if someone had picked it up before the summer rain shredded it into nothing. They let me keep my phone, which for once was charged to hilt.