Scary.
I have said before but now will again - 'There is something out there .. listening'. Why else would it be that as soon as you say, 'I am so happy with this thing or person or place' then very shortly afterwards it will invariably go horribly wrong?

My husband asked a few weeks ago, 'When are you coming to London next?' 'I think the nearest time will be never ... ha, ha', I replied skippily. Especially as I am usually alone in June as it is the high point for his work and the girls are normally doing stuff for him and my son is immersed in fun, end of year studentness. For at least three weeks I can uninterruptedly do exactly as I like in what is usually beautiful weather with the garden and all around looking amazing with roses, foxgloves etc. massing gorgeously. It is light until 10.00 at night, the swimming pool is warm and last year was like a perfect holiday abroad. And no one asks me to do anything.

So far it has not been quite as perfect as usual as the weather has been 'unseasonally' crap. I have not swum once as the pool is freezing and everything in the garden is oddly thin and tall from endless rain and humidity. There has also been a thin trickle of husband and children visiting - I think, maddeningly, because they have decided that I should not spend so much time by myself. Though I have said endlessly that I LOOK FORWARD to these weeks.

Finally, from yesterday, there was no question that I would be here, BY MYSELF, for the next fortnight. Everyone else was totally busy with no way out. This morning I was dancing in the kitchen to 'Y0ung, G1ft3d and mailto:Bl@ck one of the many nostalgic tracks on my new CD just delivered by the postman, when the phone rang. 'I'm feeling really crappy', said my younger daughter, 'I've been up all night being sick and my stomach is agony. I ate some odd-tasting prawns for supper and it's obviously that and it is SOOO annoying'. After some boring, obvious advice about fluids and resting etc. I pottered on and then rang dutifully at lunch time. 'So .. how goes it?' 'Well, part of my stomach feels all right now but it hurts down one leg .. I think I'm getting better anyway'. 'PART of your stomach?' Worried-Mother-type overkill sprang into action. 'I want you to lie down and feel around carefully .. and tell me if it only hurts low down on the right side'. 'Yes .. how did you know?' 'Fuck ... it could just be append1c1t*s. I want you to ring the doctor and have a phone consultation now'. 'Come ahhnn ...' 'No, just do it'. I am not often stern or shouty but when there is even a whisper of anything being wrong with the children I get secretly hysterical.

Twenty minutes later she called back, 'I hope you're pleased. I'm actually in a taxi although I feel miles better .. he told me to come straight in so he could do a checkup'. Half an hour later she rang again. 'Okay ... I'm in another taxi and I'm on my way to HOSPITAL and it IS append1c1t*s', and then fell apart horribly. The one thing my husband is brilliant at is forward thinking about pension plans etc. We have a total grasshopper and the ant scenario as I lounge about through the summer of my life spending casually with no thought for the winter ... but luckily he doesn't and has made a little grain store. Which includes massive medical insurance.

I spend a lot of the time being depressed and whiny - but I also count my material blessings a lot. And would never take them for granted. Especially at a time like this. How many people could feel ill and then be able to ring a private doctor who is an old family friend; have a consultation over the phone; have a personal appointment found for them within half an hour; then have the doctor ring his close friend at a private hospital a few blocks away and arrange for a private room to be available at once and then be taxied straight there and welcomed in and the operation set for the next morning. Well hardly any, obviously.

It was a big shock and she was very upset .. partly as she had leapt into the taxi expecting to return within the hour and had nothing with her. Append1c1t*s seems to have gone out of fashion as she had hardly heard of it and was amazed when I said that I was just about the only person I knew of my age who still had my body intact. When I was young people were constantly having two weeks off school to have their app3nd1x out .. but apparently that never happens now. Perhaps we ate more cherry stones.

By this evening we were both jollier as her boyfriend, her sister (carrying vast amounts of attractive nightwear and comforting trash) and sister's caring ex-boyfriend had all arrived and were sitting in her luxurious room watching a vast plasma TV. The room even has views of the river and is ranked as a five star h0tel with matching menus. You can choose the colour of your flower arrangement. What could possibly make you feel better about a sudden scary operation than finding you are having it at the R1tz? Finally, twenty years of insurance payments have come into their own.

She has to stay there for four days and then be at home, in a delicate and unable to do anything state, for a week. So ... I have to go there and be there ... and not here. And not for one mini-second do I mind having to look after her and also have that 'My baby is ill' desperate mothering feeling. But .. as well .. can't help thinking that maybe .. if I hadn't been so happy .. and actually dancing .. 'it' or 'they' might have postponed all this until July.
- posted by Iris @ 6/15/2005 11:40:00 PM comment