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random update
Jun. 27th, 2007 09:18 amGot shortchanged in WHSmith this morning on my way into work. It was partly my own fault for not paying attention - I was half asleep, and by the time my brain had caught up and processed as far as 'hang on, I gave her £10 and only got change for £5' I was already out of the shop, so it was too late to kick up a fuss. So I'm cross with myself. But it was also the cashier's fault, because she wasn't paying attention either, and paying attention and giving the right change is her job. So now I'm going to be disgruntled all day, because although it was only £5, it was my £5, and I could have done a lot more with it than boost WHSmith's profit margin!
Slightly concerned because my tickets for the Hampton Court Palace Flower Show haven't turned up yet, and it's less than two weeks now. They are supposed to be sent recorded delivery a fortnight before the event, so they are definitely late now. Especially concerned because I know that I had a parcel from Germany a couple of months ago that I wasn't at home to take in so it got returned to the sorting depot, but the postman in that instance didn't bother to leave me a note asking me to collect it. So, because I didn't know it was there to collect, it ended up being returned to the sender. I really don't want that to happen to my Hampton Court tickets - that's my Mum's birthday present! So if they aren't there tonight, I'm going to have to take my receipt along to Ticketline and make a fuss. Joy.
Went to see my friend Molly last night. She's very concerned at the moment about her friend Muriel, who has just brought her husband Ricky home from hospital to die from liver and stomach cancer. Now, it seems to me that the world and his dog have been waiting for Ricky to die for the last 18 months; it's only this particular diagnosis that's new. But Muriel really is running herself into the ground looking after him, and has been for a long time now. The sad thing is that 18 months ago Ricky was the picture of health - in his 70s, sure, but still holding down an active cleaning job, fit and well. Then he had a fall on a bus one day and broke his hip, requiring surgery. He developed MRSA in hospital, and has been a bedridden invalid ever since, going through one crisis after another but somehow always managing to pull through long enough to almost die again.
On this occasion, he was taken into hospital for a blood transfusion, and then they decided that he's got terminal cancer. Muriel asked the consultant not to tell him unless she was present, because last time he suspected he might have cancer he tried to talk her into a suicide pact. The consultant promptly ignored her request and told Ricky that he was terminal the moment she left the room, so she is absolutely livid and promptly made arrangements to bring him home to die. It's just a matter of time now. On the one hand, Muriel is being a real martyr about it all - Ricky has given her a hell of a life, he's an absolute swine, so it's hard to feel sorry for him now - but on the other hand she is fulfilling her vows right to the end. She really is running herself ragged, though. She's already lost her beloved son to a brain tumour, and that almost killed her. After caring for Ricky for so long, she's completely worn out and won't know what to do with herself when he's gone!
It feels weird hoping that someone will die sooner rather than later.
And honestly, real life really is more dramatic than fiction. I firmly believe that if you wandered down an average suburban street, knocking on doors and inviting yourself in for coffee and a chat, you would find in the life stories of those ordinary families enough tragic or dramatic stories to keep the average soap opera going for years!
Slightly concerned because my tickets for the Hampton Court Palace Flower Show haven't turned up yet, and it's less than two weeks now. They are supposed to be sent recorded delivery a fortnight before the event, so they are definitely late now. Especially concerned because I know that I had a parcel from Germany a couple of months ago that I wasn't at home to take in so it got returned to the sorting depot, but the postman in that instance didn't bother to leave me a note asking me to collect it. So, because I didn't know it was there to collect, it ended up being returned to the sender. I really don't want that to happen to my Hampton Court tickets - that's my Mum's birthday present! So if they aren't there tonight, I'm going to have to take my receipt along to Ticketline and make a fuss. Joy.
Went to see my friend Molly last night. She's very concerned at the moment about her friend Muriel, who has just brought her husband Ricky home from hospital to die from liver and stomach cancer. Now, it seems to me that the world and his dog have been waiting for Ricky to die for the last 18 months; it's only this particular diagnosis that's new. But Muriel really is running herself into the ground looking after him, and has been for a long time now. The sad thing is that 18 months ago Ricky was the picture of health - in his 70s, sure, but still holding down an active cleaning job, fit and well. Then he had a fall on a bus one day and broke his hip, requiring surgery. He developed MRSA in hospital, and has been a bedridden invalid ever since, going through one crisis after another but somehow always managing to pull through long enough to almost die again.
On this occasion, he was taken into hospital for a blood transfusion, and then they decided that he's got terminal cancer. Muriel asked the consultant not to tell him unless she was present, because last time he suspected he might have cancer he tried to talk her into a suicide pact. The consultant promptly ignored her request and told Ricky that he was terminal the moment she left the room, so she is absolutely livid and promptly made arrangements to bring him home to die. It's just a matter of time now. On the one hand, Muriel is being a real martyr about it all - Ricky has given her a hell of a life, he's an absolute swine, so it's hard to feel sorry for him now - but on the other hand she is fulfilling her vows right to the end. She really is running herself ragged, though. She's already lost her beloved son to a brain tumour, and that almost killed her. After caring for Ricky for so long, she's completely worn out and won't know what to do with herself when he's gone!
It feels weird hoping that someone will die sooner rather than later.
And honestly, real life really is more dramatic than fiction. I firmly believe that if you wandered down an average suburban street, knocking on doors and inviting yourself in for coffee and a chat, you would find in the life stories of those ordinary families enough tragic or dramatic stories to keep the average soap opera going for years!
