I have been reading Oliver Sacks’ A Leg to Stand On and pondering the irony of him being able to see his leg while having no sense of it being there and me being able to feel every nerve and muscle in a leg which very definitely isn’t there. Over the past few months my phantom limb sensations had been growing gradually less intrusive. Then, two weeks ago, an HGV crashed into the back of my car as I braked to avoid an overtaking vehicle and now the sensations have returned with a vengeance. It is as though all the shock and anxiety and the sickening awareness of what could so easily have been the outcome of the accident, have concentrated in the nothingness that is my missing leg which is fizzing and burning away like a Roman candle. Since the crash, my brain has had a particularly strong sense of where my foot is which sadly bears little relation to reality, so every step has to be cautiously negotiated. That, and the involuntary night spasms which jolt Nurse Jackie out of his dreams are keeping us both on our toes. So to speak.