Thursday, October 25, 2007

Feels like forever

So much has happened.

I had a good time at the weekend. B and I had a good laugh and we worked hard. Prepared plants for sale on Friday and then created Spring interest in a big, long border by planting hundreds of tulips in a timeline of their discovery/development - wee species ones first, then lily type ones, etc etc.

The weather was gorgeous and I'll post a picture or two when I get time.

But I got a speeding ticket on the way home. My first ever, so that's not too bad given I've been driving for 25 years or more.

My MIL was here when I got back. I find the situation with her very sad. She's very afraid of where the dementia is going. I tried to tell her that I've found worrying about what might happen only buggers up hpw we are today, and as today is about the best that any of us can hope to feel that's a bit of a waste, but this type of understanding can only be arrived at under your own steam. She sits and smiles enigmatically for hours - says she sees men and dogs in the the flames of the fire.

"Feel up" went OK, I have scar tissue building up under my arm, which accounts for the discomfort I get there according to the doc. Mammo was scary as they repeated the films, but reassured me, after I challenged them, that the woman before me had implants and they'd forgotten to reset the machine so my film was all blown.

I'll catch up with everyone soon. Thanks for your good wishes.

I wrote this today when I got home, it explains things a little better I hope.

Transported

I’m early - I’d be early for my own execution.
Killing time I choose three secondhand
poetry books to rehome from Shelter’s shelves,
then wander off to wait my turn.
In the corridor I’m forced to step back
to allow a trolley to pass and my eyes smart
as a bald, foetal ball of a woman gets eaten by the lift.
Surrendering my appointment card I take a seat
in a familiar room full of silent women.
Eyes look past eyes until I remember the books.
I’m laughing at Wendy Cope when my name’s called.

The rest was just routine.

6 Comments:

Blogger Pat said...

We all have to get a speeding ticket at some stage - it's a rite of passage.
So glad all is OK and excellent advice to MIL. We should all try to live in the now.
My son got a parking fine yesterday- we parked perfectly legit but were yacking so hard we forgot to get a ticket. Bugger!

8:41 pm  
Blogger f:lux said...

Well I'd love a speeding ticket - given that I can't drive, how exciting! I have had a parking ticket though, which is quite a story given that I can't drive and have never owned a car...

Anyway, welcome back! Looking forward to the photos, as ever. 8-)

10:44 pm  
Blogger apprentice said...

Well thanks for the support on the ticket. It was annoying, it was dual carriageway with nothibng on it. I didn't see any sign saying 50, but that's no defence apparantely.

Time to live dangerously I think, if it's good enough for Princess Anne it's good enough for me lol!

11:25 am  
Blogger Sam, Problem-Child-Bride said...

Welcome back, Anna. Good to hear your trip was fruitful, or plantful at any rate.

I like the image of the foetal woman being eaten by the lift. Hospitals do seem to eat part of us. We become assimilated by it. We become patients more than we seem to be people any more. Which is rot of course, but it can often seem that way. Lovely light cadence to that poem, I liked it a lot.

Can they do anything about the scar tissue building up? Maybe trying to remove it would make it worse though.

I got a speeding ticket once. I was doing 84 in a 65 zone at 7am trying to get to a dentist appointment 20 miles away for a root canal and then back home to pump milk for the twins, one of whom, at that stage was too weak to feed naturally. My boobs were already starting to ache on my way down there. I should have been up front, no pun intended, in telling him why I was going so fast. It might have embarrassed him into not giving me the ticket.



I was so emotional at the time, I cried all the rest of the way to the dentist, twit that I am.

5:30 pm  
Blogger apprentice said...

Hi Sam. Glad you liked the poem.
I have a big problem returning to hospital as it holds thirteen months of pretty lousy memories. She was a very pretty young woman, and I felt such a wave of emotion seeing her like that.

Nothing to be done re the scar tissue, you're right removal would make it worse. It's affecting the drainage in my arm, but I keep mobile and practise lymphatic drainage, so it could be worse.

Poor you that day with the ticket. They are so mean these folks, no mitigation ever. I didn't see the camera or the speed limit, it looked like any other dual carriageway where 60 or 70 is the limit, not a poxy 50!

On the upside my son is very impressed with his Road Runner mother as he's now calling me -beat my husband's current fav name for me, which is, "The Soup Dragon"!

8:18 pm  
Blogger Lucy said...

Oh phew, I'm glad you're OK. No good thinking you get used to hospitals, it probably feels awful every time. But glad you found something good enough to make you smile.

3:36 pm  

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