Tuesday, January 12, 2010


A 10am doctor's appointment, palpitations and a sore ear. The same as last time, the same doctor, attractive, I call her by her first name and she says she remembers me from before.

We have a friend in common. It strikes me as odd that I have a contemporary in a white surgical coat fitted just...about...right. I let it pass as she feels my pulse.

As I said. Attractive.

Heart rate is fine. No ring on the finger. Blood pressure is within bounds. Last time a ring. "Less booze and no coffee" is the mandate, I make nice and I leave. All cordial like.

Suffolk Street is swaying, a pre-tempest. A group of Italian girls are screaming at the Molly Malone as I make my way up Grafton Street, not really sure of my destination. I head west on to Wicklow Street and eat pancakes and blueberry mush.

"Give me a call if you've any more concerns."

Left or right? Decisions. I head for George's Street, ten paces later turning back. Tower is a great place for people who don't know what to do next, where to go next, so I walk in and look for a film I've forgotten the name of and leave without buying a thing.

I pick up some food, some fish and root vegetables, I pass the surgery again and I keep going.

Nobody falls or slips anymore but my garden is still wet snow, not yet slush, so I tread carefully and pick up my post. Junk. I go inside to make coffee before I remember the 'no no,' so it's some disgusting herbal tea and I hit the corrections.

I marvel at the mistakes. Repetition, uncapitalised place names, apostrophes akimbo and one lad who can't spell 'because.' I get through half of them with a groan and a red pen and realise two hours have passed.

I pick up the phone. I put it down. I think about calling. I put it back down.

I stare at the blogs, note that nobody's in. I think of a story but nothing comes out. I update my status and click on a name. I quickly click out thinking 'these things leave marks.'

I feed the beast.


Meadow said...

Poor you... I'm not well either. Poor us.

Jasmine tea is my favourite, but for someone making 'the transition', I recommend white tea with vanilla.

Get well soon.

mapstew said...

I have the 'Man-Flu'! (Slight head cold!)
I'm taking lots of Australian Sauvignon-Shiraz and Carlsberg Export! 'hic'!

I think I'm ready for the feathers now!



The Hangar Queen said...



It'll cure ya faster than any tay.

Dot-Com said...

You need to call the doc and make sure it's ok for you be eating pancakes!

Radge said...

Meadow - May both our gripes be fleeting. And duly noted.

Mapstew - Dutch Gold and Lemsip. Cures all.

Hangar Queen - We Irish vastly overestimate the healing powers of tea.

Dot-Com - Best damn feed I've had in an age.

Holemaster said...

Was a ring, now no ring?

Annie said...

make the call, make the call

Radge said...

An absent wedding ring, HM.

Annie - I'm a chicken shit.

Holemaster said...

Do it Radge. You could be an ongoing project for her.

Radge said...

After all that - no number. Pfft.

mapstew said...

You need to have a 'lie-down', listen to some relaxing MOR, White Ladder, or some Phil Collins! :¬)

Radge said...

Phil Collins is a legend. I have two ears and a heart, don't I???

Conan Drumm said...

This mutual friend, what do they say? Might they pass a note on for you?

Radge said...

Nah, Conan, the moment has passed.

hope said...

Unless you have a relapse. ;)

Kath Lockett said...

The moment has NOT passed.

Don't ring her - walk in there and ASK her instead. Go on!