i digress, and then some

I ate my toast this morning watching a repeat of the Amazing Race.  That show is one of my all-time favourites, though I haven’t watched it in an age.  The stupid fights, the wonderful locations, the excellent/piss-takey descriptions of the competitors: these are all ingredients for a fab 45 minutes of television.  It had me wolfing down Vegemite on Vogel’s bread without even the usual glum recollection that the Marmite factory is STILL out of commission due to earthquake damage (Marmite FOR LIFE -  Vegemite is a poor imitation of the real black gold).  Anyway, the relevant point is that the contestants were scrambling from Morocco to Barcelona and I squealed loudly – we were just there three months ago!

Argh - and this is the spot  where I digress badly from Barcelona to Surgery because I'm horrendously distracted by real life.  K has just had two hours of reconstructive surgery on her knee and is feeling so sorry for herself that she actually (virtually) laughed at an incredibly lame joke I made via text message while she drowsed in recovery.  I thought she was probably still high off the anaesthetic, but she responded that she was more low than high - poor chook. 

I'll have some flowers either delivered to her or I'll take them myself - what else makes you feel better when you're miserable and laid up in bed?  I should load up my kindle and drop it to her as well, I suppose.  Some stew for her freezer perhaps?

There are a number of health crises in the family just at present - between K and P's family, we're on a bit of a hiding to nothing just now.  Which is why I gave them leave to laugh at my own miserable health predicament yesterday.  I went to the doctor for a standard visit and left half an hour later $75 lighter in the wallet having been given a SURPRISE smear test.  "Oh wait, aren't you due for one? Can you do it today?  Well, whip your pants off then" (to be fair, whip your pants off was my interpretation of a more polite sentence; amounted to the same thing really so I take leave to bastardize my doctor's words).  I KNOW, I KNOW cervical cancer is certainly not a joke and it's very important to be tested, but it's never FUN.  Especially when the doctor is heard to mutter "where is your cervix then?" after what seems an AGE already...I figured it was a rhetorical question and deigned not to answer.  I may have been a bit huffy about the whole thing.

A bit of an abortive attempt at a post today - stream of consciousness has interrupted and then somehow dammed itself completely (damned my writing, at the very least).  Well, you know more about my cervix now - I'm sharing more and more intimately with you on a daily basis...(please no! you say.  Fair enough, cervix will be sidelined for the foreseeable future.