My goodness this is difficult.
I rang my friend every week, or, more, often, she rang me. We both have landlines, though she was up to date and had a smart phone too. She actually budgeted to be able to ring me. I think that’s amazing.
I didn’t ring her the weekend before Miniatura weekend because I was busy and she didn’t ring me, I thought because she knew I’d be busy. What she was actually doing was suffering from a burst appendix, which developed into peritonitis. A condition which can be rescued by surgery and antibiotics but only if you get hold of a doctor soon enough.
I keep thinking of things to tell Lynne next phone call.
I should be still tidying up from Miniatura and putting all the wheeled cases back in the cupboard ready for next time.
All I want to do is sleep, it’s very strange.
I’m also in the middle of swapping summer clothes for winter clothes, which I have to do because once the summer clothes are put away I have room to put the cases away.
Which all seems pointless.
I am so glad my friend got up the courage to come to the show eighteen months ago, on a coach, and stay for a week.
The OH is off on his singles holiday tomorrow. I shall be interested to see how I am alone. Perhaps it is practice for years to come.
I don’t usually watch breakfast television but I did a bit today while I was on my exercise bike. They were worrying about processed foods and how they could damage your health. No one was worrying about getting run over by a bus, or a burst appendix. The OH started stammering as a three year old when both his grandparents were run over by a bus at once. I was saved from a bad appendix aged eight, when, delivering Christmas gifts, and poorly as usual, my uncle knew to press mcburney’s point. I was taken home and put to bed and knew than if I just turned over I could be through the wallpaper and somewhere else. Surgery in a rush on Christmas Eve saved my life, then, but the adhesions from it imperilled my life two years ago.
Does all of this mean that when your number is up, your number is up? Should you live a wild and carefree life? Do you remember that the longest lived French lady gave up smoking cigarettes in her nineties but took it up again at a hundred and five and then lived another fourteen years? Should you try to enjoy every day, even the post-surgical ones, of which I have had plenty lately.
If we are all here to learn, which I do believe, what is the loss of a friend teaching me? If it is to value your friends, I already did. Should I have made time to ring her instead of putting my head in my work? Would I have been able to save her if I did? When she had Covid she just coped on her own, maybe she thought she had that again. Should you become hyper-vigilant about every health issue?
Right now all I have are questions.
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