A Bollywood bag and a bad, bad temper tantrum

1 minute read time.

Hands up, it was me.  

After last weekend's misery, I've been left feeling angry. Partly because of inevitable frustration but mostly because of unthinking berks (if you weren't all so nice, I'd use a much ruder word).  But thanks to the lovely posters on my last blog entry, I now feel no duty of care to "friends" who seek only to obtain information of my medical status to satisfy their own needs. 

I made a new friend this week, would you like to meet him? You might have bumped into him before, his name is Beelzebub. He's only about six inches tall and sits on my right shoulder; just like a monkey but with the benefit of free central heating in the afterlife. When I was little and a good Catholic, God used to sit on my left shoulder. He left in a huff though when I started reading particle physics and decided He was redundant. 

When I opened an email this evening apologsing for a lack of communication and contact but wanting to know how the pain was, Beelzebub roared. His fiery tongue and sharp wit sliced though decorum; a cutting reply flew from my tapping fingertips and before I knew it, the send button was clicked. Politeness forbids that I should post it here, suffice to say that the recipient will probably be sticking pins in an effigy of me, anytime soon.  

And the worst of it? I do not regret a word.

It appears time spent studying the teachings of the Buddha, have deserted me and left me dispationate in the face of ignorance. So I'm a failed Buddhist too (add that to the list). I really do want to be patient, and forgiving and caring but right now?

I have only one problem with this new kick ass attitude; I make bags so lurid, they turn your stomach. This evening I ventured to the shed to make a gift. What resulted from three hours' toil was something I can only describe as a Bollywood nightmare. Red, purple, puce green and gold in shimmering embroidered silks. The recipient is going to need sunglasses. If not anti-emetics. 

Beelzebub is coming to my hospital appointment tomorrow. I do hope they don't make us wait two and a half hours like last time. Heaven only knows what he might make me say. 

Anonymous
  • FormerMember
    FormerMember

    Great blog .... PS my black cat is called Beelzebub :)

  • FormerMember
    FormerMember

    Thanks horsygal :)

    Fantastic name for a black cat!

  • FormerMember
    FormerMember

    lol sometimes the Dr's need someone to tell them it straight ;)

  • FormerMember
    FormerMember

    Fab blog cheered me up thanks sweet dreams love karen xx

  • FormerMember
    FormerMember

    Blueeric you must be psychic!

    I let rip at a doctor and a nurse today. Because of seromas and bruising on both breast wounds, my nurse brought in a doctor to have a quick check. Not only did she flippantly tell me that draining the fluid was a of risk of infection, and less important than making me comfortable, she also tried to coerce me into taking a drug that I had expressly refused to take (with good reason).

    It's been a long painful process arriving at a treatment plan for many reasons that I won't bore you with, but I took exception to the two of them ganging up. Especially as I'd never met this doctor before and she didn't know my medical history. My patience is pretty thin at the moment and that was the final straw. I dug my heels in even deeper. Even if they had been right, which I don't believe they are, I am damned if I'd have surrendered to them.

    Don't push me.