When friends ask you how you are you have to say you're fine.
You could of course have told the truth, but most don't have the time.
My breathings bad, my foot is sore, my new teeth really hurt.
I have a pain here in my back and other things you blurt.
Then when you reach your final ailment mentioning your cough.
Don't be surprised if you then find, your friend has nodded off.
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I went through a phase of answering truthfully if asked how I was. It was a conversation stopper and nobody is really interested so I reverted to 'fine thanks'. The exception is hospital waiting rooms where patients are only too happy to tell you how they are, it can end up as symptom top trumps.
A realisation we all come to eventually. Good to see you fighting adVERSity. 
All the better for seeing you Don. People generally ask Pete how he is because they care but do they really want to know? Answers on a postcard please lol. Xxxx
Signs of a good scrabble player there, Mrs M.
😂😂😂 Sounds about right Don! Lovely to hear from you. 😊
I always say do you want the truth or a lie.
Master Po,Welcome back to your kingdom,sounds like you are having too many ailments at the moment,i am sending you some 'Real Ale' to clear those ments and make you a happy chappy once again.................grasshopper skis and a wonky cat x
You know what “fine” means in that context don’t you?
It means “I’m [edited].”
Kx
In our neck of the woods, Kate, it’s
[edited]
I really hope you’re not too fine today? Take care,
Sue x
Exhausted and relieved the short run of my play is over, three performances. Phew.... I haven’t been involved directing or acting but have attended them and done a fair amount of organising. I can’t usually stuff in the evenings but I couldn’t avoid this. A quiet few days...
Kate x
Rest up well, Zebra, and very well done. You don't give up or give in. Your quiet few days are deserved. x
[Edited] nuff said behave you lot...............skis x
my reply;- still breathing.
When people ask: ‘How are you?’
I say, ‘Bits of me are fine.’
And they are. Lots of me I’d take
anywhere. Be proud to show off.
But it’s the bits that can’t be seen
That worry. The boys in the back room
Who never get introduced.
The ones with the Latin names
who grumble about the hours I keep
and bang on the ceiling
when I’m enjoying myself. The overseers.
The smug biders of time.
Over the years our lifestyles
have become incompatible.
We were never really suited
and now I think they want out.
One day, on cue, they’ll down tools.
Then it’s curtains for me. (Washable plastic on three sides.)
Post op.
Pre-med. The bed nearest the door.
Enter cheerful staff nurse (Irish preferably), ‘And how are you today?
(I see red.) Famous last words:
‘Bits of me are fine. ‘ On cue, dead.
I do love a bit of poetry and your poem made me remember that poem from somewhere or other. It seems to make more sense every day and makes me laugh, but then that’s my sense of humour.
Oh I do empathise!....I'm always tempted to say 'how much time have you got?'......but we don't lol!....
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lol
are you brave
How do you receive treatment for copd if all your vital signs are ok?
Missed you all!
New P.I.P.Forms are Misleading.
How are you all?
