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Posted on Wednesday, June 1, 2011 in Family, Philosophy, Taxi driving

Today is a weird day. It’s not the sort of day I’d normally blog about because its content wouldn’t be the most uplifting, but I’ve entered a pact with another blogger to match him post-for-post, in an effort to motivate each other into prolifickness prolifickity more frequent writing, so here it goes:

My husband of the Accidental Terrorism variety has suffered from a degenerative spine condition for a handful of years now. He’s had surgery before that followed pain of the most extremist type, the type that had him crawling in agony on hands and knees to the bathroom, the type that had him passing out at Christmas dinner tables, a pain that left me wretched with helplessness. Surgery eased the problem, but there came a warning with it; a warning to follow a strict routine of exercise and back care in the years to follow. The warning was forgotten, as were the exercises… and taxi driving took over.

Now, today, The Accidental Terrorist has gone to have operation number two. Laughingboy had been booked into respite. Puppychild and Sir Fartsalot were due to spend a spell in my friend’s house so that I could properly see TAT to his hospital bed and settle him in my wifey ways, but the planets didn’t want it to pass that way for some reason.

Instead Laughingboy suffers a bowel infection, Puppychild a virus and Sir Fartsalot a lung infection. All at the same time do the healthiest children in the world become sick. I find that pretty strange.

And so I waved bye-bye and stifled emotions for the benefit of the children and the heating-engineers and I stuffed it away into a container at the arse end of my soul for later consideration. I hope TAT’s friend is as good a hand-holder as I’d hoped to be, I wonder if TAT feels as lonely as I do despite being surrounded by plenty of people.

Here comes the good part:

I’m a scatty person. As is my mother, and her family… scattiness is most definitely hereditary, I don’t care what anyone says. This means that my mother’s sister’s child is bound to be the same way, doesn’t it?

She stayed with me before, my cousin Diddles. Then she moved far beyond the pale and vowed to visit again but never quite got around to it and time got away from us. It was pointed out to me that it was bad play to keep¬†booking visits and never turn up, but I pointed it out that in the grand scheme of things, scatty people mean well because I know at first hand how it is and I understand and bear no such cancerous Irish grudge on the girl, I’ve got no time for that sorta thing.

We spoke two days ago, she and I. We giggled about willies and spoke of sickness and before I knew it, she had booked herself on the train. She’s trundling her way cross-country to me right now as I write, to come and share the burden and slap the sense of humour back into me, right exactly when I need her, because¬†that’s what matters, right there.

Now all that’s left are the antibiotics, and the waiting…

Bring on the comments

  1. There is good news! You are will be writing more. Go Diddles!

  2. I’m sorry you couldn’t go with TAT. Only met him once, but I could tell he’s a tough fella so no worries. I’ll have you all in my thoughts and prayers this evening.

    See, cousins do come in handy when you least expect it. After you get the kids mended up, you and Diddies should sit back and watch a good movie! Enquiring minds want to know why you call her Diddies. Or, should I ask? :)

    Being scatty must be a Davis thing! :)

  3. I also wanted to say thanks for the link. :)

  4. Granny says:

    It is a Davis thing, example….

    I had some wedding photographs of Kate’s wedding which i had enlarged as a surprise.
    Of course we hid them in a safe place, so safe
    was it that i have not been able to find them.
    Any idea’s???

  5. Mary says:

    Tough times – I know scatty. Thinking about you. You are a hero – you know that? Had it thrust upon you but a hero for all that.

  6. @Granny In one of the cupboards? :)

    My grandfather was well known for losing his keys. Of course, I used to hide them to keep him from leaving. :)

  7. K8 says:

    Sixty; Howyeh!! Here’s hoping, anyway.

    Jeffo! It’s Diddles, not Diddies! Go and say four hail-marys and two our fathers you dirty man.

    Granny; Finding them is the surprise.

    Hiya Mary, thanks for commenting. I don’t know about being a hero! My friend put it well – my juju needs a good cleaning.

    Jefferson; Dat’s so sweet!

  8. Brianf says:

    Hi K8
    Always look on the bight side of life dum de dum de dum de dum de dum
    Now say that 5 times and the song will be stuck in your head all day

  9. Holemaster says:

    TAT will cash in on the sympathy after he’s out so don’t worry. Hope the gang all get better soon K8.

  10. @K8 Yes, Ma’am. I swear I must have missed the “L” in there! :)

  11. Baino says:

    Aww shit always happens in piles. Sorry to hear it and hope the op goes OK. It’ll be good to have some support and willie talk in his absence. @Granny . . . I bought a Welsh Love Spoon to give to my kid when he gets married in July . . can I find it? Nope. Had to order another one this week.

  12. Jo says:

    Sweetheart.

    Hug*

  13. Granny says:

    Baino, Bet it will turn up before the next kid’s Wedding, making a nice tradition in the wedding prezzy department. Good Luck in July!

  14. I hope everything goes well for TAT and I’m sorry everything seemed to conspire against him going with you.

    I’m glad to see you writing posts again though. I need to take some inspiration from you, I think. I’ve haven’t been keeping up with reading other people’s lately, let alone with writing my own!

  15. K8 says:

    Hi Brian! Nice one, I’ve been looking for a replacement for ‘Birdhouse in your soul’… it’s stuck on loop up here.

    Holemaster; They’re all still alive! The Xbox died though, TAT’s recuperation’s going to be a bitch.

    Baino; I got out the white sage and things started falling into place. They’re mending! Slowly.

    Jo; I’m surrounded by sweethearts. It’s amazing how nearby women gravitate around trouble and work to make it smooth again, I don’t know where I’d be without their playdate offers and pre-cooked dinners and baby holding and blog commenting :) Womanhood’s amazing.

    Jenny; Everything’s working out well by the looks of things, normality is getting nearer. Blogging is hard, don’t be tough on yourself… it’s an odd kind of discipline so all you need to be is slightly odd to own one. Embrace your oddness! That’s my mantra these days.

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