Waltzing on the Ambassador's Lawn

I'm still incarcerated in the Wexham Hospital of correction without being charged.

Remember Zebedee from the Magic Roundabout, many years ago?  He was like a spring with a head on and used to boing around everywhere?  Well, my temperature has decided to become just like him.  One minute nice and low, the next it flies up to the highest heights (accompanied by the sound of Kenny Rogers and that woman whose name I can't remember singing some song about something being lifted up where it belongs.  If that makes any sense to you, you're doing better than me).  Now, Mr. Holmes, where it gets even weirder, is that sometimes, when the temp is high I feel ragged and just want to sleep and maybe grunt occasionally and other times I feel footloose and fancy free, desiring nothing less than to waltz, Viennese style (is there such a thing?) across the ambassadors lawn (okay, slight exaggeration, I feel okay and am content sitting up, reading, typing on the laptop and not just wanting to doze.)

Not a lot happening otherwise.  I either lie here, wanting to go home or lie here wanting to go to sleep. 

Almost forgot.  I received a couple of units of blood in a transfusion (sorry if that loses me any Jehovah's witness readers, of which I am guessing there are a fairly vast number).  No one had warning me and when I saw the nurse approaching with a bag of blood I was strangely freaked out.  Apparently, my red blood count had been slowly dipping and they wanted to raise it up.  It seemed to help and made me reconsider my move to not join that marauding vampire gang back in '96.

Well, I think that was one of my most bizarre posts to date.  Not sure what is going on with my brain today, but thought I'd share its outbursts with you, gentle reader.

Until next time...