Turning the corner and the wind has abated but the snow has not and it is wet slushy snow. Help! I am being kidnapped! Jonathan is forging forward when I really should be going home. We take the last few yards on the road because it is very slippery and finally we make it through the door and into the lounge!
David (Young Larry Grayson) is calling bingo and we make our way to an empty table where I take off my burglar’s hat and spread my everso warm but very wet cardigan on the back of my chair. Jonathan hit the Christmas tree and knocked one of David’s bells off on the way in. He comes over and huffs as he puts the offending bell back on and then shakes my hand and welcomes me back.
Many people are waving but no-one comes over – I suppose it takes them a while to get used to having a “cancer” sufferer in their midst. One woman who gave Irene a hard time because she thought it was disgusting that she came out while I was in hospital was watching me like a hawk and talking with her hand over her mouth – obviously talking about me. Her partner died of bowel cancer but her attitude towards me and Irene has always been spiteful and patronising.
I alternate between wheelchair and chair with my whoopee cushion and I stood up just as the singer asked if anyone was dancing when he spotted me and said “Oh we have a young gentleman in the corner!” Wrong on all three, young, gentleman and dancer. Dance! Walking is still a challenge.
I imbibe a diet coke and then move on to a single serve red wine which goes straight to my head. By now people have drank enough to loosen their inhibitions and they start to come over. One old workmate had his whole colon removed and a new colon made with half of his ilium. We swap notes and hospital tales. It’s good to be out meeting people but I continually have to swap seats because my bum is so sore internally and externally. I have another single serve red wine. In for a penny etc.
I ask Irene for another vino collapso but shock! Horror! She has run out of money so Jonathan has to nip down to the bank. I tell Irene that I won’t double up for last orders as is my tradition – Scots blood and all that but Irene is not amused.
I am waiting for Irene who is in the toilet when one of the comedians comes out and starts to wheel me out of the club saying that we were off to the Manvers for a late drink! Jonathan quickly gains control of my chair and redeems the situation.
The journey home is uneventful and I nearly climb Everest on my own. Three glasses of wine doth not a hangover make. Surprisingly I don’t sleep very well but I have completed my practise for Christmas!
