They are on custom made magnetised plasticard bases scaled for a set of rules in my head.
Today they look like this.
I also have a pile of rubble which will be filed under 'B'.
The figures are destined for the great rebasing queue. Their time is now as you may guess in a few minutes.
24 days ago I was just coming around in the recovery room feeling somewhat different, lighter, not a care in the world, nothing could be sweeter.
1 day later reality stepped into the argument. Where was that pain coming from? Why is the consultant saying I can go home?
Fortunately the ward staff nurse disagreed and it was another 3 days before I had the opportunity to count the 192 pot holes on the 7.1 mile trip home.
Life was not unreasonable for a cancer survivor, at least it felt not too bad.
Then, things went downhill.
I had an infection, perhaps two, producing no end of breathing problems, a fever, a sweat plague, constipation, depression, paranoia, a helluva sore left testicle, no appetite, no focus and probably a few more things I can no longer remember, ah, I remember now, an opiate overdose.
I am two stone underweight (28 pounds to those across the pond) but find eating a bit of a chore. I am on a lighter dose of painkillers, can shuffle from one end of the house to the other without almost falling over 2 or 3 times.
On the good side I can drink fluid and, woo hoo, pee which is what started off this adventure in the first place. Happy Days.
Where are we now?
Am not too sure but I spent more than an hour in the wargames hut this evening doing something not very important but at least something. Rebasing figures is mind numbingly boring but it is about as much I can manage today.
What will tomorrow bring?