15 Aug 2008

Soule hier au soir

(I got drunk last night)

I’ve had a health scare recently so, I haven’t felt like writing. Life in general has been a bit shit too over these last ten or so weeks. I really have had no will to sit in front of a computer for any length or time to do anything productive at all. Perhaps I have some form of digitized bipolar thingy? Hmm!!! Another thing to put on my hypochondriac’s list of possible illnesses. It’s a very very long list already.

I can’t quite remember exactly when, but I discovered a large odd shaped lump in my groin. And after doing a Gordo’Brown (i.e. locking myself away to manically search the Internet for four hours) I narrowed the possible ailments down to the  three most likely causes of the lump!

  1. The good - a swollen lymph node due to infection
  2. The (v) bad - lymphatic cancer
  3. & The ugly - Inguinal hernia

I will not be providing links to the appropriate wikipedia pages as, if you’re anything like me you’ll probably send yourself mad by endlessly clinking those links over and over again thinking that slight difference of your left side from your right is more than likely one of those.

My uncle, a retired doctor, gave a diagnosis over the phone of hernia. “Sunshine, you’ve over done it with that freakin’ allotment of yours, you berk.” said he.

I booked a Dr’s appointment, eventually, and went.

Now, there’s a problem in itself! As a perpetual neurotic adolescent (I am by the way 36) the thought of getting felt up by the Dr is quite frankly, nerve racking. “Will I like this more than I’m meant to? i.e., Will I like, get turned on? Oh shit! How red face making could that be? Will he laugh a the site of my nether regions?

I have bit of a sexual fantasy about medical scenes. Tara Emory in rubber nurse attire is defo worth checking out.

Anyway, to cut a long story short…

After dropping my knickers, and lying on a grey recycled paper covered examination couch, in a far from exotic and scruffy GP’s office - during which I wondered “what the fuck do I do with my arms here?” Well what do you do with your arms? Grope your groin? No! Casually cup you hands and rest your head on them like the Fonz? Answers on a postcard please - I got a prescription for a week’s course of antibiotics.

The lump is now the size of a small double pealed broad bean.

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17 May 2008

Promised Land

Looks like my trip to the Norfolk coast is canceled, for a while at least. There is no room at the inn. Well, there’s only a suite left and that’s seems a little too extravagant for one for one night. Plus the room is £140 a night and I can’t stretch to that. Cromer pier will just have to wait another month or so.

To be honest, I’m not too sure I could of handled the trip there. A six hour train journey with two changes, plus the thought of having to check in to a strange hotel alone would totally freaked me out at some point on the way there, it’s something I haven’t done in a few years. Panic attack central. And a real test of those little pink pills.

I’ll have to settle for a day trip to Bangor instead.

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