My brain thinks my leg is still there and, however hard I concentrate, I can’t persuade it to re-think. If I twiddle my non-existent toes I’m sure I can see them shift under the bedclothes. My missing calf aches as though it has run a marathon. I’ve no idea how my brain would know what running a marathon feels like. It’s about twenty years since I’ve run for a bus. It is just showing off. My brain is further confused by the morphine which keeps lulling me into a kind of Alice-in-Wonderland-infested sleep. I hate Alice in Wonderland but the dreams are quite diverting. Last night I dreamt I was running down the road shouting, “Look, you can’t even see the join”. In that dream, I was feeling really fed up about losing my leg. I woke up and the gloom stayed with me for a few moments, before fading away.