When time and tide have been

Even though I'm not a British citizen, I cannot help but feel saddened by the death of Queen Elizabeth yesterday - at the age of 96 and after a 70-year reign.  She's always been the Queen and will always be the one monarch who stood as a symbol of stability and tradition (say what you will - I give her my respect for all she did - good, bad or otherwise).  I don't know why but it just signifies that the curtain is falling faster now on everything I ever knew, grew up with or loved (for that matter).

I feel (physically) tweaks and pangs and discomforts with greater regularity than I used to; ones that I discounted or shook off previously, I now am more aware of and wonder if I should bring it up with my doctors.  Just the more common usage of the word "doctors" is not comforting but ominous.  Even my emotions have been raised to a new degree that they hadn't been before.  It could easily be some of the aftermath of being told with certainty that you have cancer and the rollercoaster I've been on.  I don't know for sure.  

The only thing I can say is I still feel very unsettled; I still don't feel 100%, health-wise and I know I have to be patient and let time physically heal me, as what I've experienced was a double trauma and at this age, the recuperation period takes longer.

So I will remain vigilant.  And cautiously hopeful.