I felt like a 16 year-old girl   Leave a comment

Jesus. Yesterday was hard work. Instead of feeling like a grown man with a wife and a child and a clear-eyed view of the world and his place in it I felt like a 16 year-old girl who has pitched up late for her A-Level Sociology class and then burst into tears when asked a question about post structuralism. This is because Simon Baker made me do the compeering for the Midsummer Alldayer at The Boat Race on Sunday. The father of a prominent local DJ had helped me hook up with an old friend of mine whose company I had not enjoyed for several years. He always boosts my confidence and seems to precipitate long drinking sessions. So yesterday I woke up with an eerie sense of not having been to sleep, plus the especially taxing duty of coaxing the masterfully reluctant Syd to eat, dress, be pushed to nursery school and stay there, plus a doctor’s appointment to catch at 9:40AM. This was because I was under the impression that I had cancer again, I’m afraid. I also wanted to see him about my agony of the tongue, which isn’t going away despite all my best efforts to drink and smoke it into submission. I felt very awful, and very afraid. Turns out that the bleeding black mole is not a melanoma, but rather a traumatised blood vessel, and the good doctor Farrant offered to whip it off there and then. I thought I’d better take the opportunity rather than worrying about when it was going to fall off of its own accord, so I peeled off my sweaty shirt and quivered a bit whilst he fetched his scalpel. I wasn’t quivering too much, however, because it wasn’t cancer. The good thing is about Farrant is that I keep going to see him about odd growths and he just says, “That’s just your left arm Mr. Gregory” or whatever. The man has a reassuring air about him that makes me wonder whether if you went in there with a nasty head wound from a shark attack he’d tell you it was perfectly normal. He prescribed me some steroid pills for my tongue – everything you get from a doctor seems to be steroids of one type or another – despite being seemingly incapable of coming to a diagnosis beyond “it doesn’t look like thrush” and then I felt obliged to stagger out into the sunshine for another go at real life.

Posted July 16, 2003 by peteum2013 in Uncategorized

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