Saturday, 29 June 2019

The End of a Beautiful Friendship.

My posts aren’t very cheerful at the moment, are they? But can you blame me? Apart from all the other woes pressing themselves into my consciousness, tonight I watched the penultimate episode of House – and the future doesn’t look bright for him or me.

How am I going to cope without him? He’s been my nightly companion for the past six months, and that’s important when you spend 99% of your time alone. And how am I going to cope with losing a team of doctors who so often seemed to be speaking directly to me, especially in the matters of kidneys and blood clots?

Still, at least my favourite Dr Park elevated her credentials tonight by whacking dear old Greg over the head with his own walking stick. Well, he was trying to strangle a patient to death after all, and Park is such a cutie.   

2 comments:

Madeline said...

I felt that way about the ending of Frasier. Those people were my friends. I lived in that apartment. Now we're making do with The Wire, which is good but not quite as homey feeling.

I liked House but always thought it should come with a surgeon general's warning about the possibility of triggering pre-existing neuroses. They could have named the show Who Wants To Be a Hypochondriac?

JJ said...

I know. I think I said in an earlier post that House was turning me into a hypochondriac. But it wasn't just about triggering pre-existing neuroses, more the uncanny relevance to current conditions. Shortly after my doctor told me I might have a blood clot in my left leg, House's team said (three times, I think): 'We have to remove the blood clot now, because if it gets to his heart or lungs...'

My ex was a big fan of Frasier, but I never watched it. I suppose it was because I never really got into Cheers. The only American sitcom I watched diligently was Taxi. Rev Jim was much appreciated and remains a favourite.

I don't know why you continue to read my blog, Mad. If I were you I would give me up as a waste of space. Glad you do, though.