TUESDAY!

I am slowly but surely recovering from my varicose vein operation but must mention that it is not the most pleasant of experiences. As well as the beautiful bruising, I have a 4-5cm cut in my groin that totally grosses me out every time I look at it! I did think about taking photo’s and posting them for a keepsake but really it is too revolting… The other cuts are inconsequential as they don’t give me any pain and will be all gone in a jiffy.

Before this operation I was a huge advocate of “plastic fantastic.. baby”! In that when/if Americo and I ever have children every part of my body would be returned to pre-child proportions. Now, however, I feel that plastic surgery really should be the last option. That is not to say that I have gone all extremist in the other direction - I still want the right to choose! It is just that I now remember how painful it is to go under the knife.

So to this end I have a shocking announcement… I am going to start being healthier. I have no expectations that this will last long as I get bored easily and generally lack dedication. However in order to keep the bulge at bay I feel that something really must be done. SO! Once all the holes are sealed I shall be joining a swimming pool and taking up where I left off MANY years ago. Any helpful hints would be appreciated..

Yesterday I spoke to my Aunt Mary who told me that someone from our French side of the family (on my mother’s side) have written a little book about our history/family tree. How exciting! Unfortunately it is all in French so will need to be translated but I am eager to get a copy with family stories dating back to 1066! I will keep you posted.

All Done!

I had my operation on Tuesday and all has gone well. I am feeling somewhat battered and bruised with a beautiful patchwork of black and purple running up and down my leg where they pulled the vein out.

There were a few touch and go moment such as when the nurse came to take my blood and then attached a hose pipe to the vein to get a FEW vials.. by the end of that I was feeling somewhat queasy and Americo didn't look much better!

I won't go into all the gory details but would like to mention that I was incredibly brave and did not head for the doors the minute I saw a needle.

When I came to I had a very nice nurse who I was absolutely convinced was Americo and kept insisting that he take me home IMMEDIATELY as I was sick of being in hospital! He on the other hand tried to explain that he was not Americo and as such could not take me anywhere.. Once I was a bit more compesmentis he said that I was speaking in Portuguese?? Not quite sure where that came from but it seems those classes did actually pay off - I just have to be doped up in order to use them!

Anyway I am signing off now. I will be back on Monday.

HOSPITALS..

Things have been busy this week as I am out of the office next week having an operation on my leg. Thankfully it is nothing serious but I will be laid up for the week with my right leg in the air. I am really not sure what to expect and after initially putting a brave face on things have since relented and asked Americo to come and hold my hand!

Hospitals and I do not go well together. I have a mild phobia of needles that began with one to many jabs when I was younger. The last time I had one of these I was about 11 and it was the last ‘shot’ of a long series of rabies jabs.

I remember the day clearly it was the last Sunday of school holidays and I was due back at boarding school on Monday. There had been much discussion throughout the day about the best way to proceed. I was arguing the side of “let’s not have it done” (I think dad was almost convinced .. aware of the impending pandemonium) however mom remained resolute. I must mention that, although mom was stoic, she was also dreading taking me to get it done.

Dad, having previous physiological scarring from one of these trips refused to be involved. And so it was that Julian, my big brother, was roped into joining us - all the time questioning why anyone would need to be on hand for his little scrap of a sister? The reason was soon revelled….

We drove the 30km’s into town with a growing sense of trepidation filling the car. Eventually we arrived at the hospital, my little bottom puckering at the thought of being turned into a human pin cushion.

Out came a friendly doctor commenting on my bravery, then he did a fatal thing.. he showed me the injection. I took one look at it, grabbed the car keys out of mom’s hand and ran, locking myself in the car. After much persuasion from my mom I reluctantly unlocked the car and followed them back into the ward. Honestly I truly did have good intentions of behaving myself, but when he came in for the second go I could contain myself no longer. However all the staff, having witness my previous bid for freedom, were on hand to head me off.

There was no escape; I did though manage to create quite a stir screaming down the corridors with a trail of nurses and orderlies in my wake. Inevitably I was cornered and after such a run around restrained by Mom, Julian and 6 orderlies. I am not sure Julian ever fully recovered from the swift conversion of blue eyed angel to fiend. I also understand that my reputation holds firm at that little hospital in Mutare.

Now before you start a major outpouring of sympathy for Americo, let me just say that I have improved. I now provide the ‘needle bearer’ with a set of handy guidelines i.e. ABSOLUTELY no opening the needle packet in front of me, definitely no showing of the needle and suitable distraction is a necessity at the time of injecting. Americo is looking forward with, with great anticipation, to Tuesday’s activities!