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The Night Before

It’s the night before the hospital visit when all through the house, not a creature was stirring not even a mouse.  Well, the little dog is stirring as I write this but everyone else has gone to bed.

I woke up really late this morning..I mean..at eleven am.  I popped over to George’s house where her son was having a cup of tea.  He’s a bit of a tricky character.

I have not drank one cup of coffee since I arrived here nor smoked one cigarette.

Decided to drive to my mother’s house for lunch.  She cooked chicken.

After lunch she cried for a good long time about my grandmother dying.  She is finding it very hard to process her mother’s death.  As I am doing some grieving of my own we both sat there and cried a bit.

If I hadn’t gone through what I had gone through recently I think I might have been less sympathetic.  The pain she is going through is hard to watch.

I hung around her house all afternoon and into the evening.  She and her boyfriend live in the most gorgeous 16th century house overlooking ancient forests and vast, snow-covered fields in the most southerly part of Kent.   There are quarry tiles in the kitchen and Elizabethan beams.

Finally held in my own hands the beautiful, ancient oak box Nana left me which was originally filled with beads but only a few now remained.

Driving home I nearly killed myself driving on the wrong side of the road. What an idiot.  Approaching a roundabout the wrong way.  I panicked.

English TV is really informative.  Tonight I learned that the only way a medlar can be eaten is after being bletted by heavy frost.  It’s true!  You’re welcome.

I also learned that the X factor is a hugely watched TV show in the UK and restaurants and bars are empty when the show airs.  It’s a kind of talent show for the truly talentless.   Aren’t they all?   Simon Cowell is not such an ogre here, more like a grumpy uncle.  He has fun being a super bitch in the USA.

My Mother sits making snide comments about all the contestants and I understand the genesis of my own pervasive dissatisfaction.

How am I feeling about tomorrow?  Kind of wide-eyed.  I have no idea what to expect.  Stoic.  British.

9 replies on “The Night Before”

I don’t know if good luck is the appropriate sentiment but I’ll be thinking of you and hoping that if it is cancer that it’s only in the testicle and has not spread anywhere and that you recover well from the operation.

I think all of your readers are wishing you good thoughts and hugs D… Keep the faith, it’s what being a survivor is all about. Xxx

Courage Duncan! The lovely thing about hospital is the sincere care and attention you will receive from your clinical caregivers. No judgment. I hear this care is better in the UK than in the US. Blessings and good thoughts for your health…

Take care Duncan, and put your trust in the hospital staff who will look after you. Thank you for keeping up your blog throughout your illness, I’ve enjoyed reading it. All the best.

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