Things have got to change. I can't go on like this, from day to day, never any time for myself, not getting anywhere. When I was on that hospital couch, reading David Copperfield, I was free. For the first time in years. And riding home on the bus afterwards, through the countryside. No symptoms. Free. I've got to get back... But there's no point thinking about it now. Once I've had the endoscopy, once I've got that out of the way. Once I get back to normal. But what if I don't get back to normal? Maybe this is how I'm going to feel from now on. Getting twinges. Food getting stuck. Avoiding coffee. Getting old. Putting up with symptoms. Closing possibilities, everything closing in. Getting old. It's not just the physical problems, it's the claustrophobia, the feeling of reduced options, running out of time.