Cutting Capers

 I have just phoned Daughter 1.

The conversation went something like this.

NM: Well, how are things?

D1: Grand. We're just waiting for her to come out of surgery. Should be about twenty minutes.

My thoughts: What surgery? Am I supposed to know about this? Did Daughter 1 tell me her dog was going to the vets for an operation and I've forgotten? I'm always forgetting what people tell me. Sometimes I just don't listen enough. I try to cover up my foolishness.

NM: So, this was a planned surgery? 

D1: Not exactly, but they did say she should come in fasting, just in case.

NM: Look, I know this is going to sound stupid but I'm not sure what you're talking about. Is it Maya?

D1: It's Martha. She had an appointment at the Royal Victoria Hospital for Sick Children this morning. They decided to set her fracture under anaesthetic.

NM: Oh! 

Maya is perfectly fine

Explanation. Martha fractured her right pinky finger before Christmas whilst doing headstands. She is very into gymnastics and what her great-grandmother Martha would have called 'cutting capers'. It has been in a splint since then and did not keep her back in the slightest. I had been informed about today's appointment and did forget about it.

Martha

Update: she's fine. She was the only patient in her department today and got lots of attention and then they kicked her out as soon as they possibly could. She'll be back to cutting capers, and playing the clarinet and piano as soon as she can. Well done, NHS. We're really lucky to have you.

Her Mother

What Happened...

...is the title of one of the books I am currently reading. Hillary Rodham Clinton. Moderately interesting. No pictures. Picked up in a charity shop for a quid.

Bert and I went first thing this morning to Whiteabbey Hospital where he was to receive the follow up on the biopsy on the warty lump on the side of his face, I waited outside and finished reading Falling Leaves by Adeline Yen Mah. I forget where and when I sourced it. Probably a charity shop. It was an interesting read if only because it gave a first-hand account of life in China and Hong Kong from 1937 to the 1990s. That has left just thirteen books on my reading pile.

Next, I opened The Glass Castle by Jeanette Walls. It too is a memoir too, set in America, and also about a dysfunctional family which is really the only kind of real-life family worth reading about. I barely managed a paragraph before Bert returned with the happy news that the warty lump is nothing to worry about. He is to rub cream on it.

Other charity shop finds currently being read are,

The Lake House by Kate Morton. Bit meh.
Emotionally Weird by Kate Atkinson. Barely begun and I'm finding it hard to get into. But it's Kate Atkinson so it will probably be good.
The Little Friend by Donna Tartt. As above.
Human Traces by Sebastian Faulks. This has been on the go since March. Slow-going. But Bert finished it and so must I. This is the point of reading many books at once so that they are not thrown aside unread when a more tantalising read comes along.
Picador Book of Blues & Jazz, edited by James Campbell. I'll probably still be reading this in October even though I promised to give it to the guy who works in the library after I've finished. Which is very much a Coals to Newcastle situation.

Library books on the go are,

Ordinary People, Diana Evans. Early days yet.
How Not To Be A Boy by Robert Webb. This one is very, very good.

Bought from internet booksellers,

Five Children and It by E. Nesbitt. Why not? I enjoyed it as a teenager. I was book deprived as a young child so read a lot of children's literature when I was older.
Pastoral by Andre Alexis because I so loved Fifteen Dogs. Fifteen Dogs broke Bert's heart. He was all sniffy and broken-voiced when he closed it for the final time.

Given to me by Hannah,

Spill Simmer Falter Wither by Sara Baume. Barely begun. Hannah said if you enjoyed Fifteen Dogs you might like this.
The Beautiful and the Damned, F. Scott Fitzgerald. First time reading it. Not liking it much. But I will persevere.

So, what else, apart from reading has happened?

Gracie went home to her real family and I missed her.
I visited my Aunt Clare.
My grandson James had his fourth birthday and his little sister Emily has started to walk.
Jazzer and I had a day out in Belfast without going near the actual city centre.
Martha and Evie returned from their Connemara holiday taller and browner.
It rained all week.
And overnight my hair went from looking perfectly OK to looking like a badger's! Must be time to visit Rhonda again.

Bert and the NHS

How could I not be grateful for the National Health Service? Ok, it's not perfect, far from it, but the benefits, the blessings it has given our family over the years are numerous.

For instance, this morning Bert and I travelled to Whiteabbey Hospital where he had an appointment with a dermatologist. He has this weird growth on the side of his face which popped up on a weird discoloured patch that has been there for years. Bert spent a good part of his early twenties in hot countries and never, ever used sunscreen. In sunny weather at home, he bared as much skin as possible and never used sunscreen. I've been chirping at him for months to go to the doctor. Eventually, he did and his GP said,

Probably just a wart but best to get it looked at by a dermatologist.

The appointment came quickly and the dermatologist said,

Probably just a wart but best to have a biopsy.

And that's the next step.

Thank you National Health Service.

Hypochondria

Bert told me he had a nagging pain in his back so I phoned the surgery to make him an appointment. 

How long have you had it?

Two or three months.

Why didn’t you say anything before?

I knew you’d only be nagging me to go to the doctor.

Anyway, I phoned the surgery and that is when I found out that they had changed the appointment booking system.

We don’t book appointments any more.

Oh?

If you leave a number the doctor will phone you back.

I was a little miffed about this. But the doctor did phone Bert within about thirty minutes and offered to see him straight away. Off he went and was away much longer than I expected. When he eventually returned he said the doctor had sent him into Ballymena for an X-ray. All this within a few hours. I thought it was a great improvement on the previous service which would have entailed a week to wait for a GP appointment then a drive to Antrim and a two hour wait for the X-ray.

If the new appointment system is intended to screen out the scores of people who go to the doctor for damn all then I approve.

My old mum was a bit of a hypochondriac and I remember my father saying that every time he drove her to the local surgery,

It’s always the same old faces.

I wonder if he considered his wife to be one of those old faces but, if he did he never said so.

I’d hate to be as overly concerned with my health as Matty was and I am happy to say that I am definitely not a hypochondriac. Except… except in the wee small hours when every twinge, every ache is the harbinger of some dread disease. And it's getting worse as I get older.

And what of Bert? His results came back. Nothing sinister she said, just an old rib fracture and the effects of chronic smoking. Nothing sinister? That would scare me. It's time he quit that nasty habit. And I’ll cut down on the gin and buns. They give me a sore tum.

Five Days In March

Thursday

Woke up this morning despairing that I would not have a minute to myself for three whole days. Then I gave myself a good mental shake and rethought the whole thing. Today is looking after the girls day. What could be more wonderful than that? I wished it was 11:30 already so I could pick Evie up so the fun might begin.

Then tomorrow I have to go for a mammogram. How great that I get to have this for absolutely free. Three cheers for the National Health Service. Long may it continue.

And on Saturday London Sister arrives for a super-fast visit. We are going for lunch and maybe a walk. Something to look forward to.

Friday

Went for the mammogram and parked 30 minutes from the hospital. Walked past Evie's nursery school and spotted her, through the winter-bare hedge, playing on the slide. I did not draw attention to myself as peering at children through hedges is frowned upon. The breast-screening people have a new mobile unit. It is enormous and looks like it might have cost a million pounds. They told me that all of Northern Ireland got brand new units this year. I approve of this expenditure. Worth every penny of my taxes. Then I remembered that I don't have to pay tax any more. Worth every penny of Bert's taxes then.

Saturday

London Sister! We went to Harry's Shack on Portstewart Strand and had wonderful fish and chips. We got to sit next to the wood burning stove which was very cosy and much appreciated by LS, who feels the cold. The place was teeming with happy folk scoffing away and the service was excellent. I will be back.

Sunday

Mother's Day. I forgot all about it until the girls arranged a walk and picnic in Portglenone Forest. We met at midday and were greatly entertained by the littlest ones who were playing a complicated cat game which involved fishing (pretend) and climbing trees (actual). Hannah got to be an honorary cat and their names were Ginger, Chocolate and Sweetie.

Monday

Gardening and Cooking For The Family Day. I got a Mother's Day card from Katkin which had the loveliest message in it. Martha very excited as her bantam, Honey is sitting on a clutch of eggs and we are hoping for Easter chicks. I made a sausage cassserole with mash and kale and steamed chocolate pudding for dessert. Chocolate pudding is the current favourite with grandchildren and older relatives. After they finished they asked for the pot so they could scrape the chocolate sauce out. Before I got round to clearing the table (careless me) Ziggy climbed on to it and ate all the sausage out of the remaining casserole. There goes tomorrow's lunch.



I think I may have a day to myself tomorrow, hope I don't get bored.

Home Alone: Days 5 and 6

I swapped child minding days with the co-grandparents so I could attend my post cataract procedure check up today. So yesterday Hannah and I took Evie to lunch in Cafe Couture then off for a browse at a Harryville charity shop. I gave Evie a two pound coin to spend and she slotted it into a toy drum machine and that was the end of that. Despite our turning the machine upside down many times and Hannah inserting her weird long fingers into the machine's inner working the coin stayed put. I advised the shop manager that the £3 price sticker on the gadget should now be upped to £5.

Off to the hospital today for a 4pm appointment. I was there for three hours and found myself sitting next to the same man that I sat next to on the day of the procedure. We swapped notes. Seems we are both doing great. Thankfully the surgeon agreed. I discovered the reason why things were taking so long for he was teaching a student and was taking enough time to ensure that she was benefiting from the experience. A lovely man. So I was there for a long time and so what? Once again I got to see what is wonderful about the National Health Service. And I've been flagged as 'urgent' for the left eye cataract.


Not a word from the holiday maker but thanks to Jazzer and the immediacy of Facebook I've seen three photographs. Her camera isn't very good but it seems that he is covered in mosquito bites and looks really sad as if he is totally missing Jess and Judy. The poor man.

Khail And The Fox

Last weekend Khail van Niekerk, 19, from South Africa did his very best to avoid hitting a fox whilst driving back from work. The fox survived but the car rolled. Khail did a lot of damage to his left arm and is currently up in Antrim Area Hospital awaiting a transfer to Dundonald for a skin graft. N. So Khail you're experiencing a lot of what Norn Iron has to offer including the NHS. K: I could have done without that experience thank you very much. N. I suppose the food is very good. K. It is the worst food I've ever had in my life. I couldn't eat a bite of it. I'm expecting to lose quite a bit of weight while I'm here. N: But I'm sure you're enjoying all the pretty nurses fussing over you. K: Pretty! You must be joking! They're all ancient old women over 30 and they all waddle about. They're not a bit like nurses are supposed to be. N. You'll be pleased with the Yazoo chocolate milk I brought you. K: Indeed I am not. Next time can you bring me a big J?