“I got you a little something, for our anniversary and Valentine’s Day,” I say to Seb when he calls yesterday. “When’s Valentine’s Day?” Seb says. “February 14th,” I say. Surely he ought to know this, but then again maybe it’s a good sign that he doesn’t: it means he hasn’t been wining and dining a […]
Wake up drenched with sweat but freezing. “Is that sweat or wee in your bed,” Mum says, at 6.45am or so, when we get up in time for 8.15am Spin. “Sweat, this time,” I say, pulling on my padded-bottomed cycling shorts, fluoro gym top, Mum’s white snow-boots, trousers, scarf, gloves and goat . “So […]
“I need some morphine,” I say, standing at the nurses’ station. “I’m in so much pain and…” “Which room are you?” A nurse says. She’s young, pretty: long black hair tied in a ponytail. “Fifteen,” I say. She pulls my chart down from a shelf, looks along it. “You’re not due anything for the […]
“Hello,” my plastic surgeon says, popping his head round the door, his face lit up by his huge smile. “Hello,” I say. “How are you doing?” He says, perching on the edge of my bed which creaks: he’s a portly gentleman. “Not too bad,” I say. “In a lot of pain, but my chest […]
“Ouch,” I howl, bursting into tears. My underarm burns with pain. “Oh I’m so sorry,” the doctor says. “I didn’t realise that you’d just shaved your underarm till I’d already wiped the alcohol all over it.” “Here,” the nurse says, handing me a wet tissue. Wiping it off, I try to […]
The Captain messages, finally, at about 3pm yesterday. “I do really want to see you but I can’t make it tonight.” “OK. That’s not the end of the world,” I reply. “I don’t have much time before the operation though.” He doesn’t suggest another date. I’ve told him I’m just having a small procedure: he […]
Scars, Tears and Training Bras 