At 6am tomorrow morning transport is booked to take me to
the Royal Derby Hospital,
there to consign complete control of my body to a man who will cut into it and
remove one of my internal organs. I don’t relish the prospect. There will be no
alcohol for me today because it’s forbidden. There will be no going to bed
tonight because there wouldn’t be any point. Today is a day to get through as
calmly as possible, while the following image continues to insinuate itself
into my mind as it has done for the past week:
And so I thought I would take refuge in a little flippancy
in hopes of deflecting the anxiety. It occurred to me that I might see
something interesting while under the anaesthetic, and this is what I would
like to see:
And this is what I would like to see when I wake up:
The other way round would do just as well, although neither
is likely.
I promise to make another post as soon as I’m able. If thou
hear never more of me, pray for my soul (after Mallory.)
6 comments:
The only TV channel my husband and I watch is Turner Classic Movies. The line up tonight is 8pm Titanic 1953, 10pm A Night To Remember. Just thought you'd want to know. But you're the unsinkable Jeffrey Beazley.
Good luck. n.
I did so want to know that, Nancy; I really did. Thank you for the gallons of glee which overfloweth from my cup (since it's empty of a decent late night drink tonight.) Oddly, I mentioned A Night to Remember when I spoke to my ex earlier this evening. I saw it on the TV when I was a kid and it made a BIG impression.
I do so hope I can emulate Miss Molly Brown (an American as I recall.) Thank you for the sentiment. Thank you for the good wishes. Thank you for being a brick.
Hello JJ,
I was shocked to discover, through your feed, your health problems of late and your present situation. I hope your operation has been a success--I'm sure it has--and please accept all my best wishes for your recovery. You will need strength so remember to eat well (as soon as you can, again) and think about the lovely season to come, your favourite time of year. It's a good time to get well. All my blessings from Berlin.
Thank you, Della. Nice to hear from you again.
This winter has been unpleasant. All the procedures, the scans, the waiting, the uncertainties, the discovery of the big word beginning with C... And, of course, the weather often conspired with everything else to drag the whole experience down to an even lower level.
It isn't quite over yet - there's another procedure to be done in about ten days time and the debrief in six weeks - but I'm hoping the worst of it is. It's generally true that the reality of a situation rarely matches the anticipation of it, and so it transpired with regard to the seven days in hospital. Frankly, it was one of the worst experiences of my life. I was dreading it long before I got there and it exceeded expectations right royally, but I think I'll leave the details for a blog post when I get around to it.
Good thoughts for you and your family. Stay healthy.
I'm so sorry to hear the hospital stay was even worse than expected. How awful. I can imagine though, seven days is a long time. Hospitals are strange places, too. One is being cared for but it doesn't feel like it. There's a surreal, lonely quality to the whole thing (not helped by the opiates). I hope the next procedure goes more smoothly and swiftly. As for the big C, there has been much progress with treatments. Also, it's so important to take control oneself--with diet, etc. Take care JJ, I will consult the blog to see how it's going for you. P.s.: it's so good to see in some of your blog posts, that you haven't lost your sense of humour. All the best.
I wonder whether it would be reasonable to say that while there is a sense of humour there is life. I think it might be, so now I can adopt it as one of my maxims. Thank you, Della, for your usual combination of sound sense and imagination. I'll be sure to credit you with the original idea whenever possible.
Incidentally, I had a terrible night last night but I'm eating better today.
Post a Comment