A good evening to you all from the Lifestyle Support Guru and I hope today’s post finds you well! I am currently wondering if I need a new title – I picked up a leaflet at a charming little café in Derby the other day which had been placed there (the leaflet, not the café) by an ‘integrative counsellor/psychotherapist’. Does the LSG need to move with the times and be ‘integrative’ and would I then become an iLSG? If so, do you think Apple might be interested in my services?
Moving on: today I wish to discuss hospital visits. I have described a previous visit – if you remember, my left kidney was described as ‘very photogenic’ and it still hasn’t let me forget that. However, this particular most recent visit was to the Eye Department where they found that I have a ‘nevus’ on my eye. ‘What is a nevus?’ you ask. Well, it was described as a little mole or freckle, which sounds quite cute, really, so I
Nevus on Retina
have decided to call this mole Morris, which seems a very good name for a mole, I think (I had considered Malcolm the Mole, but I already own Malcolm-the-strangely-named-cat-from-Australia, and I didn’t want to confuse him). I may also refer to it as Neville the Nevus or Freddie the Freckle. Somehow, I feel that a mole needs a masculine name. The consultant said they would just have to keep an eye on it, at which I smiled broadly but the consultant didn’t – I wonder how soon eye specialists get fed up of everyone coming up with that joke!
The visit was quite interesting in a number of ways – I have never seen so many women without eye makeup in one place, for a start! Whilst waiting, I read a thriller in which the police became suspicious about a character because ‘there wasn’t a fresh vegetable anywhere’ in the character’s kitchen. I hadn’t realised that fresh vegetables were a sign of guilt or innocence, so I had better rush out and buy some before I go straight to the top of their ‘Wanted’ list.
The appointment was for late afternoon and by the time it was finished, it was almost dark. Not having had lunch, and feeling rather hungry but not keen on going home to cook (which won’t surprise many of you), I decided to treat myself to a meal at a pub/restaurant opposite the hospital. I asked the very nice waitress for a table for one, thinking she’d show me to some dark, little corner out of the way, as often happens, but she sat me down right in the path of everyone coming into the restaurant section, which didn’t bother me at all – I just smiled at all the other customers as they walked past and carried on reading my thriller, wondering what other insights into the criminal mind I might learn. A full washing basket is a sign of a serial killer, perhaps? Or a lack of hoovering indicates psychopathic tendencies? What surprised me most of all, however, was that
the restaurant menu prices practically doubled after 7 pm, for exactly the same food, so I was pretty pleased that I’d made it in time to order the cheapskate version! I had a very nice steak, then the waitress asked if I would like some pudding; when I said no, she smiled and said, ‘Ah, the wine’s obviously enough.’ She hadn’t looked like the sarcastic sort…
And so I wended my way home with Morris/Nevus/Freddie to introduce him (them?) to Charlie, Molly and Malcolm. I hope they can all be good friends. Enjoy your evening, dear devotees. I look forward to hearing if you think I should become integrative. In the meantime, I’m off to the ‘Fresh veg’ section of Sainsbury’s.