Rushed around this morning sorting out papers for meetings and changing agendas until my brain imploded. Mental note to self: it is a bad thing to arrange two very similar meetings within two days of each other, particularly with the same Chair. I am guaranteed in such circumstances to get the wrong papers in the wrong meeting or worse – have two lunches turn up on one day and none on the other. Sigh. I can see I’m going to have to stock up with my Rescue Remedy spray for the end of November, not to mention Quiet Life pills.
I’ve also had my follow up appointment with the Hormone Guru at the Surrey Park Clinic to get my test results. Another sigh. There’s good news and bad news. Isn’t there always?? The good news is that she thinks she can sort out my insulin problem just by diet and exercise, rather than going on the scary insulin pills. Alas, this means going easy on cakes, biscuits and chocolate, and developing my relationship with lean meats, fruit and vegetables. But at least I’m allowed to drink 1 or 2 glasses of wine a week, rather than completely abandoning the vine, hurrah! Which, I suppose, means I can at last make use of the wine bottle stoppers my mother has bought me virtually every Christmas since I got married. Goodness, she will be pleased. We have acres of them.
The bad news is that my oestrogen levels are apparently so appallingly low for my age that I might as well grab myself a penis, strap it on and start subscribing to Motor Monthly. Well, that’s not quite how the doctor put it, but you know what I mean. Anyway the upshot is I am going on my own tailored HRT programme (not, sadly, the one that makes me into a Class One Bitch who salivates over younger men – what do you mean: what’s the difference then??) which will consist of rubbing oestrogen gel into my legs each morning and in the evening too if I feel the need. My, Lord H will be so pleased.
However, apparently, if I get my hormones sorted out (dahlings, a wide variety of experts have tried for years to no avail thus far, but at least the Hormone Guru seems to be more on the ball, as it were … which just goes to show if you want a problem at least acknowledged, sod the NHS and go private instead), it might mean that the insulin issues improve a little too. Who knows: in a year’s time, I may well be running for Miss World 2008. Or possibly Miss Knackered Woman 1960s. One of the two. Watch this space, eh …
Anyway, enough of the health-related gnashing of teeth and virtual wailing – though I would advise against asking me how I am if you see me in the street over the next couple of weeks or so – you may well be given more information than you really want …! Tonight, I’m planning to take the next section of my anti-novel to Guildford Writers and attempt to make sensible comments on everyone else’s work. Though whether I actually get there or not will depend on how I’m feeling after today’s ups and downs (Update: hell, I'm staying in). Ridiculously, I do feel more fragile about the whole thing than I expected to. Wish I’d ruddy well gone private ten years ago. Dammit. And hey ho.
Back in my other life, I’ve got the edits back for Thorn in the Flesh from Jackie so I’m looking forward to getting on with those. Funny how we both finished the edits of each other’s book on the same day – spooky, eh … I do feel that an Addie (from Jackie’s Tainted Tree) and Kate (from Thorn) sequel is surely in the offing at some stage – after all, Addie lives in Guildford and Kate in Godalming, and they both love the theatre – how could they not meet?!?
And here’s a piece of flash fiction for the Writewords Flash Fiction 2 Group challenge for this week, which is on the theme: Playing with fire:
Playing with fire
‘So,’ Anita said, putting down the Dove Body Firming Gel she’d been using on her thighs for the last two weeks. ‘Do you think my legs are better or worse? With this new gel, I mean?’
Douglas paused in the act of buttoning his shirt. Always the same question and in twenty years of married life it had been impossible to answer. At least with yes or no. This time, it was going to be different.
He smiled, knowing he was playing with fire, and opened his mouth.
Today’s nice things:
1. Getting my upcoming meetings under control
2. Getting to the truth – slowly – about the hormone stuff
3. Getting to the end of the day – soon, please God!