Ad Infinitum

What does size have to do with anything you ask.
Well speaking as a person who has fought with her weight since 1949 I can tell you it has everything to do with everything. We live in a society that reads us by our adipose tissue.
Do I agree with it?
Of course not.
Am I subject to it?
Of course I am.
My reason for describing the nurse as obese is because she is. Does it matter in a hospital environment – well it’s obvious aint it? Would you go to a hairdresser who had dandruff, a comb over and a seriously misbeshaving rug?
I don’t think so.
I don’t have a problem with her being hugely overweight but there are some who do. My reason for describing her thus was to give you a picture of my day on the ward.

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Ron Mueck is an Australian hyperrealist sculptor he started as a model maker and puppeteer for children’s television and films. I saw his sculptor, ‘Dead Dad’, a few years ago and it stayed with me.
It’s a tiny version of his father, naked, lying on the floor. A life reduced. A life curled up and utterly vulnerable. A life, however it was lived, honoured in silicone and seen by thousands of people walking round it, over it, past it. Discussing it, criticising it, crying over it – but at least acknowledging it.

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I went to borrow a red dress for a big charity do I’m going to on Saturday, Okay so I tried the dresses on over my trainers and jeans, but I still looked like a Yeti who had found some garments in a skip behind the bins in Balham.
I will have to revert to my old dress I have had for so many years now its come back into fashion.

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I’ve just heard a Northern expression from Sybil. ‘Cry more pee less’
Well if thats anything to go by then I’ll be out of the bathroom for a fortnight.
I don’t know whether it’s the moon, whether it’s the Year of the Rabbit, whether its my age, whether it’s the lack of sun whether its because I have just sent off 107 pages of the book, I don’t know what it is but what ever it is I’m peeing less.

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The alarm was set for 6.15 a.m. but none of us slept.
B was up first, then Gods Gift fell out of bed.
I had set out my funereal garb the night before but changed my plans when I felt the temperature. It was absolutely freezing.
The three of us left the flat and bumped into Simba the golden labrador and Paul. ‘You’re up early’ said Paul brightly.
‘We’re off to a funeral’ I said and tickled the dogs head.
We climbed into Jim’s car and set off just after 7.00

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