tubes

oh readers, has it been that long? i have been remiss in the extreme in keeping you up to date with events chez nous. herself has been somewhat distracted by the men in her life. the largest of these has been backwards and forwards to the hospital having blood removed and peered at, and worse still, having a little pipe removed.

this latter procedure occurred last friday. it seems that when superkidny was placed in himself's rather fine belly the doctors thoughtfully placed a little piece of plastic between superkidny and himself's bladder. this was to make sure superkidny's wonderful output of wee found its way to the great outdoors. once things are all working swimmingly the little piece of plastic is removed. i am not sure i can bring myself to tell you how this is done without my eyes watering, save to say it involves a tiny camera called a shuftyscope, and an even smaller pair of pliers on a very long stalk. and a man with very steady hands.

the hospital told himself to bring someone to drive him home. presumably this was because his eyes would be watering and he might not be able to see. herself accordingly took the day off work. my boy was off school and so the peeps set off at some unearthly hour, leaving myself and young dave in charge of things at home. the peeps were gone for hours and hours and hours. as time ticked by i mused on the ear-bashing himself would be in for. herself does not do waiting. and she does not do hospitals. and she does not do london all that happily either. for a procedure that was due to take 2 minutes, things appeared to be dragging rather.

when they finally returned, it was with stories of kafkaesque systems within the hospital. herself can rant for britain on the subject of systems. i will confine myself to just one example, lest you fall asleep. himself had been sent a letter saying his appointment for the shuftyscope was at 12 o'clock. the peeps had to get to the hospital for 8.30 so himself's blood could be peered at, so they were very early for the appointment. they dutifully went along to the day surgery place and checked in at about 11am. they were told to wait. at 12 o'clock himself was called over and given a rather fetching gown. he was told to put it in a locker and to come back at 1 o'clock as the shuftyscope man was at lunch between 12 and 1. so why send people appointments when the man would be eating his sarnies? especially for something so nerve-wracking. the waiting area must have been full of men with shrinking wedding tackle. i suspect this would make the shuftyscope man's job much harder. trying to get the shuftyscope down the end of a todger that has turned itself inside out in fright must be quite a skill.

the other man in herself's life has also been keeping the peeps busy. my boy got through all the weeks of serious medical stuff in one piece but fell to bits when it all stopped. he was off school for a week a while ago with a little tummy trouble. then he went back, but not for long. soon he was off again, complaining of feeling sick and indeed showing all the signs of someone who was feeling sick, from the green tinge to the shaking hands. visits to the doctor followed, for his ears to be peered down and his chest listened to. meanwhile he got even thinner, having decided that eating was not a great idea. it became apparent to the peeps that there was more to this than met the eye.

after forensic cross-examination by herself my boy finally admitted that the feeling sick was being triggered by the thought of school. things there have been a little tricky, with my boy coming out with rather too many of his tactless and inappropriate comments in lessons and getting into bother. he has also been causing grief to his mates, to the point that they are beginning to avoid him. all of this became clear to the peeps after a meeting with my boy's teachers, which had herself in tears when she got home.

the upshot is that we are going to have family therapy. and my boy is going to have some other sort of therapy as well. so at last we are going to get some lessons in how we are supposed to go on. better late than never is all i can say.

and as for young dave and his delicate insides, the tale of that will have to wait for another day...