Half-Time Report

Today, I fainted in a blood clinic and hit my head. It’s not that I’m squeamish about needles; it’s just that I have horrible veins and have to be stabbed like a pin cushion every time they take blood. After nearly three hours sitting around a hot hospital it was the last straw. I’m alright now, I have a lump on my head and I told the gorgeous doctor that I was just swooning at his beauty.

People are starting to leave me messages asking whether I’m alright. In fact, I’m still waiting for my operation, which will be a week on Friday and while I wait I’m pretty tired but other than that I’m okay.

My dad has been over from France; ostensibly to look after me while D’s out but in fact he needs constant entertainment. “Aha,” I thought, “I know what I’ll do; I’ll give him a pile of house particulars and send him off to pester estate agents. After all, it’s not like I need to say yes to anything he suggests.” Inevitably, four week later, I’ve had an offer accepted at an embarrassingly lower level than the sellers wanted. In fairness to dad, the house is lovely. It’s a Victorian terrace on a tree-lined street with big sunny bay windows, French windows to a huge garden and proper open fires in every room. But buying a house was supposed to be my ‘showing my independence’ thing, and it does feel a little bit like that’s been taken away from me.

D’s working very long hours right now – longer than he’s contracted to work – and I think it’s all getting on top of him. All his patients are critical; they all need mechanical intervention to stay alive. So most of them die and he’s not used to that. I can’t think of anything I can do that will make him feel better about that, so I cook and store up little jokes for when he comes home and just hope things improve.

What else has happened? In the world of friends, Lynda has broken her ankle falling off a pair of platform-soled shoes. She’s taken this as a sort of omen of fracture in general and split up with J. Nobody’s very surprised about this as they’ve been at odds for a while but it does mean ‘the dividing of the friends’ has taken place so I’m not sure if we’ll be seeing J again. Meanwhile, and as a sort of cosmic balance to this, Jim has taken Itsuko out on four dates. She reports these are proper, respectful, no funny business dates, featuring restaurants, walking to the front door and goodnight kisses.

This is so wrenchingly out of character for Jim that I’ve taken to phoning him up and wailing, “But why? I don’t understand.” The best explanation he’s been able to come up with is, “I felt like I was getting left behind” which is actually a pretty good reason.

Scott has been emailing me pictures of his increasingly pregnant girlfriend Caroline. Mostly, she’s proudly displaying her bump while standing in front of his new cheese vats. It’s hard to tell from the pictures which he’s prouder of. He’s planning a special batch of cheese, to be named after the baby when it arrives, which strikes me as a happy idea, babies and cheeses smelling as similar as they do. They’ve already asked me to be the baby’s godmother. I pointed out that I’m an atheist, but apparently that’s not a problem. “We’ve discussed it and we agree the baby should have one thoroughly unsuitable godparent, and you’re it.”

And that's all the news from Lake Wobegon. Stop leaving me anxious little notes, I’ll be back after the operation.

Comments

[S]

Thanks Lucy.

Mind suitably at rest.

Hope all goes well.

I've just had an op too. Random benign tumour. Yuk.

Hospitals suck.

Sorry D.

Tripping out on anaesthesia was fun tho.

Why do anaesthetists come across like your new best friend when you're off your t*!$ in a club?

Just me then...

[GBC]

Nice to hear from you again.

Oh and as you see no body trashed the place .

love n kissess

[Mac]

Welcome back and so long.

:)