Sorry Picko I miscounted Chapter 24
It’ s Christmas Eve and I have had good night’s sleep (well as good as I get these days!) and I feel good. The eight foot blow up Santa is still not on my porch because Jonathan says it’s not worth it. We live on Cotgrave’s bus route and Santa is a major landmark. I am determined to get him up there even if I try and do it myself although I have enough trouble climbing stairs let alone a ladder.
I’ve finally got my clippers in a state of charge so the big white beard can go. It was so last year anyway. I had just finished in the shower when the nurse knocked. I wasn’t going to get done until Saturday but it seems there has been a bit of a cock up on the admin. front so I assume the position and get my gladyolii restickered.
Irene is boiling the gammon. We have had it for Christmas breakfast ever since I can remember. My great uncle Jim had a horseradish root on his allotment and it was our job to grate it. As children we used to dare each other to sniff it after the vinegar had been added but when I got older it became a drastic but effective hangover headache cure if you were brave enough.
I am just recovering enough so I can go and do unmentionable things to our capon that doesn’t involve stuffing but when I tell Irene that I will watch the news and be right down she says that I will be watching her fist if I don’t hurry up. Sigh! It appears my Christmas domestic violence is starting early!
The capon breasts are well and truly buttered, the eight foot Santa is on the porch and now I am off to hospital to give the nurses a tin of Heroes chocolates and a card as a thankyou for looking after me. I never had a chance to say my goodbyes because my departure was so sudden after good doctor/bad doctor. The journey to hospital is uneventful and the nice man lets us park at the main entrance. There are a few nurses that I recognise and I give my tin and card to the pain control nurse who is genuinely interested in my progress. She asks me if I want her to let me out and I tell her that I certainly am not staying in!
It was nice to help with Santa and get the capon ready –it’s the first time I have felt useful since my operation. Irene has done an amazing job doing everything AND looking after me! It is important to give us patients back our self esteem by letting us do things when we can, however small.
I make it to the club and the place is packed and I am glad. We finally get a table in what is called the graveyard because it is near the bar and the old-timers used to sit there. Lots of people are shaking my hand and kissing me. It started off with the men winning but the women caught up towards the end of the night! I drink nearly a full bottle of Merlot (Jane had a glass – she was tarting around with some mistletoe) When we get home I have another couple of glasses and my brother Alex gives me a big glass of Glen Ord single malt which repeats on me all night, repeats on me all night, repeats on me all night and I go to bed much regretting the circumstances.
On Christmas morning I am awoken by Runrig’s Loch Lomond belting out from the kitchen and the smell of toast. Tim who fell asleep comatose on the settee had woken up at six and continued partying on his own!
It appears that Santa has been but no-one else stirs until eleven am. A bit different to when they were children!
