Archive for March 23rd, 2007

Look, he’s walking!

I could have written this post a week ago as he was walking then, but I’ve been a little bogged down with ‘stuff’. You know, the kind of ‘stuff’ that gangs up on you and makes you run out of time at the most inconvenient moments. And, in case you wondered, ‘he’ is not a 1-year-old; it’s Kevin. And the reason for my glee is that the week before, he was not walking. He was, at best, hobbling, but mostly just lying there, on the sofa in the living room while moaning painfully.

After 10 days knocked out on painkillers administered by the undersigned he finally started moving again. Then he started joking, then the sarcasms started up and I knew the worst was over. When Kevin is sarcastic you know he is well. Or at least something similar.

Painkillers. I had to go into hospital for emergency surgery in 2003. That was an obscenely hot summer and I was sent to the nearest hospital which was Whipps Cross University Hospital. There they tried to kill me. It was all dreadfully unpleasant and the only enjoyable part was when the anaesthetist put me under – wow! that was amazing! and so quick… and everything just disappeared and then I woke up after less than a second back on the ward and the pain was gone and I was in love with the anaesthetist, which I made sure to tell him when he came to check on me after the operation.

That aside; in the UK they like to prescribe painkillers, so I was sent home with a carrier bag of them called Kapake, which I believe is a paracetamol/kodein product. I never even took one. The slight post-op discomfort was nothing compared with the pre-op PAIN, so all I wanted when I got out of that hellish prison was a very large and very cold G&T.

Actually, the first thing I did after I got back from the hospital was to call for an ambulance. Somebody managed to crash right outside our house within minutes of my arrival home. Whipps Cross Road: I don’t miss you one bit!

Anyway; those were the painkillers I fed Kevin once I gave up on the doctors here. Slightly past their sell-by date, but I’m glad I didn’t take them to a pharmacy to get rid of them, and I’m glad they did the trick. He needed to sleep, and he did.

My time as DSM is over. It’s very sad. I still dream about it. Being thrown in at the deep end was not easy, but I learned a lot very fast and – on the last day the cast had bought me flowers! I burst into tears in front of them all… Kevin was deeply envious; he’d bought me flowers too (so, yes, he was indeed walking by then) but thought his were little compared with the elaborate bouquet of lilies, roses and, eh… not sure what the last ones are called, that I came home with that day. I love all of them! And lilies are incredibly sensuous when they open up.

We’re going to the ‘gala night’ on Wednesday. That’s the official opening night as I have understood it, and Kevin has to wear a tie. I don’t seem to be able to make him keep the beard – or ‘bird’ as my dad calls it – he’s grown over the past weeks till then. I love it when he grows that beard. He looks just sooooo cool with it! But he insists on letting his own comfort go before my wishes. Very selfish, if you ask me.

Finally got the birthday present off to my godson in Norway. Only nearly a month late. Well, stuff got in the way you know. He’s two years old. Do two-year-olds have a concept of time as anything more than something which moves way too slowly when you’re waiting for something? Just thought I’d check. I don’t have kids. As my sister delights in telling me after she’s spent a considerable amount of time complaining about this or that regarding child-rearing; ‘Well, you wouldn’t know anything, not having any of your own.’ Fine. If you don’t want my opinion – don’t bloody complain to me!! Glad I got that off my chest.

Gimme dogs any day. At least they sit when you tell them to.

Tulips from Kevin. I love tulips. I guess I’m like my mum that way. She has brilliant taste.


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