Nov 23, 2001
Drama and dreams
OK, well, hostiple. Here we go.
What fun. I’ve been waiting for an appointment for months, and today I had to go on my own. Everything crappy and stressful happens at once, it seems. All we need now is a redundancy and a divorce and we’ll have collected the full set. Bingo!
Last night the next door neighbours were burgled. Did I mention that? Anyway, they were and they were so upset. The girl is only about 22 – she was crying her eyes out on the stairs next to my front door when I got home. I made her a big cup of sweet tea. So British sometimes.
Where was I? Oh, the hospital. Well, let’s just say that they’re not very good at being reassuring. Also, I learnt today that when they say “I’d like to get someone else to have a quick look” they actually mean fourteen earnest looking medical students. Which must be very educational for them (good), if a little embarassing for me (bad). Ah well, all in the interests of science, I suppose.
I left, a bit confused, a big shocked, a bit worried, got home in order to shower and try and get rid of the feeling of being poked and prodded, got online and promptly freaked out. Too much information on the interwebnet, you see – it enables the frankly prone to leap to conclusions which may well be well worth leaping to, but not alone and on a friday. Hmm. Bloody information.
So now we enter a round of more prodding, more tests, more medical professionals (though not students, hopefully) and more uncertainty. Hoorah. Nothing more distracting. Oh, and I’ve got a whole weekend to stew a seul, too. Great.
I went to sleep when I got home, in my socks, and had strange, intense and colourful dreams about being in a deserted church/theatre/cinema straddling Hampstead Heath station, and hiding in a loft with Paul while strange people in masks danced in my socks. Woke up with a dry mouth and a headache.
So I’m not really going to talk about this at all – there’s either too much to say or nothing at all, and either way this probably isn’t the best place to ponder anyway. That’s what heads are for, and pillows, and stuffed dogs.
