6666/19586
It’s my 6666th entry! The number of six (thousand?) beasts. Two thirds of the way to 10,000.
Though let’s not look that far ahead for now, just in case.
Wobble over. Feeling positive again today. I don’t know if I will need Chemo, but a couple of people have let me know that it’s not necessarily as bad or extreme as I’d been imagining - hey look I don’t mind losing a bollock, but my hair is all I’ve got. Also this is almost certainly not going to kill me. So let’’s loosen up and enjoy the fact that I’ve only got one bollock and the jokes that that leads to.
After all my years of honouring God, it feels like He’s testing my devotion, like he did that time with Job and heaping stuff on a bit. First of all He sent Covid (which some might argue wasn’t targeted directly at me, but to them I’d say I lost a gig in Birmingham where I’d sold 1100 tickets, so show me someone who has done worse out of it than me), then He took my bollock (it was a good one and I understand why He wanted it up in Heaven to be fair) and now He’s torturing my lovely wife with terrible tooth pain that the emergency dentist doesn’t seem to be equipped to treat and which painkillers are not really helping with.
Bizarrely I am quite comfortable, even though my emergency was arguably more serious. It’s an odd situation to be in where your nurse is in a worse state than the patient. I was a bad nurse. I guess it’s lucky that I don’t have that as my job as advising people to try not to think about it might not be enough.
I will not let her teeth steal focus from my bollocks!!
It’s not the first time I’ve said that.
In reality a couple of bits of concurrent unpleasantness really serve to demonstrate how lucky our lives usually are, but the timing could be better. I am a bit stir crazy from doing nothing and not having had fresh air for five days, so I was actually glad to make myself useful and do some home schooling. My daughter had written and illustrated a story about a giant baby called Pooooooo (this had not been set as school work) who smashed up a city, befriended a dog. Her giant parents wouldn’t let the dog into Giant World, but she waited til she wa an adult and smuggled it in in her pocket and pretended it was a toy. Then they both died, but the dog still managed to get back to its family in ghost form. There were some twists and turns. It’s no “The Man Who Was Never Born†but it’s still not bad work. I love it that she wants to tell stories.
I am going to miss this when she goes back to school next week. Funny how your perspective can get shifted round.
Ernie meanwhile got a tiny plastic toy of a Spiderman villain (some kind of crocodile thing) in a bath bomb (could he be any more middle class? It’s tragic) which he calls Dr Baddie. It’s a bit on the nose, but I like the fact that he studied medicine before turning evil. Dr Baddie keeps pushing things off tables so they nearly hit the cat and then he gets sent to the naughty step until he says sorry. I suppose our son is learning about right and wrong (even if I suspect he’s more on the side of wrong if it comes down to it and this feels like a sophisticated satire on the ineffectiveness of punishment) and the cat hasn’t been hurt yet, so it’s all good.
