jmgoyder

wings and things

Cleavage

I was about to write a post about Anthony’s successful transition via ambulance back to the nursing lodge today but I am too tired from having read a million magazines in the hospital over the last two days. I exhausted one ward’s supply so had to go and ‘steal’ some from another ward. I know I was supposed to do my paperwork but it was putting me to sleep, so I opted for the magazines. I am now an expert on Posh and Becks, I know all of Prince Harry’s secrets and I am getting really worried about Oprah and Angelina Jolie.

I have also seen a hell of a lot of cleavage and, having rarely dressed in anything but collared shirts and jeans, I found it a little confronting – haha! There seemed to be cleavage on every single page of every single magazine I picked up and, when Ants wasn’t drowsing, I would show him a picture and he would say, “Yes but she’s not as good as you,” which is strange since I have never worn anything ever that revealed cleavage.

Funnily enough, when I picked Ming up from music school this afternoon, he said, “Mum, there’s this new teacher who is really hot, but today she was showing a lot of cleavage.” I cracked up laughing at the coincidence then asked him if this were a good or a bad thing. “Well, as a person, I feel like asking women to please put them away, but as a man I am rather drawn,” he said seriously.

I am still laughing and can’t wait to tell Ants when I ring him tonight. He is fine now although his left eye is dreadfully swollen and he is still a bit more disorientated than usual but I am so relieved it’s over and the skin cancer is gone.

 

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Do you ever trash your own blog posts?

I just trashed a rather sarcastic post I wrote yesterday because when we saw the skin cancer surgeon today I felt a little abashed. You see, I had wanted him to go see Ants in the nursing lodge, make a judgement about the skin cancer and schedule the operation; after all, his rooms are only a few streets away from the nursing lodge. Instead, Ming and I drove into town, picked up Ants, took him to the appointment and then back to the nursing lodge. Ants was fairly mobile so it wasn’t too much of an ordeal but I get very nervous taking him anywhere now due to various offshoots of Parkinson’s Disease that can happen suddenly.

This surgeon has operated on various of Anthony’s skin cancers before but not for several years. He is rather delightfully eccentric and so is his wife, who manages the practice, but I am a little uneasy with them because we had a bit of a red tape kerfuffle years ago and I got a bit cross. This time I decided to be polite and accepting of the red tape because the system requires it and perhaps my previous sarcasm should have been directed at the system? Or maybe I have a teensy anger problem at the moment, as does Mingy.

The internet is an interesting space in all its complexity but, due to the lack of censorship, it can also be a place of extreme havoc and a space in which the weaving of hate is possible. This happens on Facebook, on WordPress and on all sorts of websites. Sometimes I write something that I might not actually say; this is cathartic but also maybe a bit cowardly. For example, I wrote about my BNDN (Best Next-Door-Neighbour) yesterday  more effusively than I actually spoke to her. Conversely, I have written to, and about, the unkind people in my/our life because if I tried to say these things, the door would be slammed or the phone hung up.

A beautiful relative tried to censor my blog a few times until I told her off because self-censorship is my speciality. I guess that’s the trouble with having friends and family reading your blog. You have to be so bloody careful what you say. One blog friend told me that none of her family or friends know about her blog and I think she was very wise! When I taught Creative Writing at the university I would always devote a lecture to the self-censorship conundrum because it is such a huge dilemma when you want to write something but you are scared someone will disapprove. I used to say, “Just pretend your parents aren’t looking over your shoulder. Write bile, write rage, write blood – write passion!” It seemed to work but it had its drawbacks because when it came assessing those assignments, it was like being hit by lightning in good and bad ways.

I am sometimes too honest for my own good and this week my anger has leaked into my posts because I didn’t know what else to do with it. That’s okay and I am fine with that. Nevertheless I did feel a little lighter trashing that post. Does anyone else do this?

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Apology

I decided to edit out the following sentence from my ‘rage’ post of yesterday: “Of course none of those professionals really care, do they.”

That was a dreadful overgeneralization for which I apologize.  The focus of my rage was on the doctor who did not return my calls for three weeks and who took just as long to even refer Anthony to the surgeon.

Now Anthony is on the urgent list for cancellations. It’s a public holiday today so tomorrow I will ring the surgeon’s office and ask if there are any cancellations and then I will just keep ringing until it happens.

I  will not panic. It is not an emergency so the hospital idea is out.

Most of the professionals who have looked after Anthony, and continue to look after him, are wonderful, caring people.

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