I was out for over a minute.

These new treatments are worse than the last ones. I pull back the curtains and stare out at the little square of London gardens below my flat, nothing much to see and the sun light hurts my eyes. I'll have to call Dr Morten later and make another appointment. I don't want another episode like last time. As I think about last time I catch myself scratching the scar on the back of my hand and force my hands behind my back.

Got to find something to take my mind off it. TV that's what I need but not more of that constant stream of nothing news - cartoons or maybe something else. Anything else but having to think.

"Case Notes on Daniel Vincent"