*f.e.c.... Freaking, Enmity And Chemo

People, I am totally freaking out.
The subject of ‘Heidi’ came up last night.
German girl, hills, goat boys and ‘The Grandfather’, you know the one.
The version I’m talking about is the German one released in 1978.

Katia Polletin played the lead character.
In ‘78, I was 8. I loved Heidi, but with hindsight I realise I had a serious crush on Katia. I knew I wanted to do something with her but I was unsure of what. To me, she was gorgeous.
So, I had a mooch on imdb to show the others the one I meant.
I found her. But no picture, google images supplied that.
Now this is wear the freaking begins.
When I look at pictures of a pretty child, whom I used to fancy rotten, does this make me a FUCKING NONCE!
I DO NOT fancy kids, but I still have the memories of the feelings, the kid I was had.
Fuck, that is a really clumsy sentence and I’m not sure if it makes sense, but I know what I mean.
To make it worse, some fecking ponce in Massachusetts got to my blog by typing, ’Paedophiles in Cobh’ into google search.
WTF!

Katia, never acted again, so there are no pictures of her as an adult! I am sure she is gorgeous.
I need to see pictures of her as an adult.
My sanity depends on it.
So, Katia when you google your name and this comes up, have a heart!
A small passport sized photo will do.

I went with Claire for her first lot of Chemotherapy today.
The appointment was for 9.30am and we were there in good time.
At 10.10am a large, flustered woman, whose trousers were just that bit too short, came and told us there were no drugs for Claire.
The Consultant hadn’t done the prescription.
Fucking Great.
Poor Claire, sat there shitting a brick about the treatment and they tell her it’s going to be twenty minutes longer.
Nice one Dr Caroline Archer, you complete cunt.

We went for a coffee and then, for me to have a smoke, off hospital grounds.
Have to be right off the site. Bollocks.
Back we trundled.
I was getting more and more agitated and sarcastic.
At 11.55am I could contain myself no longer.
I looked at Claire. She knew what was coming, half rolled her eyes and nodded.
Off I went to the desk and asked if there was any FUCKING danger of Claire having a MORNING appointment.
Which for me, was extremely restrained.
If it had been my appointment there would have been constant, far louder swearing and possibly chair kicking.
Actually, I tell a lie.
I wouldn’t be in a NHS hospital, fucking BUPA all the way here!
You can't be TOO Socialist with your health.

12.30pm we were taken through to a suite of rooms with recliner chairs and drip stands.
Claire got a nice corner position and the nurse went through her spiel.
I think on your notes, along with DOB, Bloods etc, should be your level of academic attainment.
Jeez! Talk about being spoken to like an idiot.
When she told Claire she had to take the anti sickness pill after, then see if she felt nauseous, I had to jump in and ask how she would know she felt nauseous, if she had taken a pill to stop that very thing?
I don’t think she liked me.

I went for a wander with ipod ‘John’ and ended up in the Chapel.
The pews were horrible to sit on so I laid down.
I was listening to Elgar’s cello concerto, communing with my G-d. When some Vicar-y type (Black shirt, white collar) slapped my leg and said,
“You can’t do that here”.
I asked him what he was on about.
He told me I ‘Couldn’t just lay there’ and I told him I wasn’t.
He asked me what I WAS doing.
This is how it went.

“I think you’ll find I’m in my Father’s House communicating with him in the way that suits me best.
In fact, I am SO at home here I see this as my ‘bedroom’ (I did the fingers in air thing), so would you kindly fuck off and leave me to it”.
I stuck the headphone back in my ear and he, indeed, fucked off.
Knobber.

2.30pm we got out.
2 fucking 30!
My nicotine levels were so low I was close to a ‘Nicobetes’ hypo.
I lit up in the car park. An amazing social test. At least 6 other people saw me smiled, pulled out their smokes and sparked up!
That’s as near to Revolution as I got today.
It’s a start.

Claire was patient, brave and brilliant and I’m a little fuzzy as to who was there for support…..

*This is the Chemo