Sunday, January 28, 2007


Don't you find that when you think you've got life sussed, cracked it, starting to enjoy it even. Something will always come along and bite you up the ass and give you another effing wake up call.
God forbid (and obviously she does) that we should sail (no pun intended) through our lives doing no harm to others where we can possibly help it, and glide into old age with a smile on our faces before everything stops working and we shuffle off this mortal coil.
Oh no, you have to suffer the indignity's of "bits" going south, "things" being removed. Over the last hundred years or so I have lost a kidney, a womb, an ovary, a set of appendix, a couple of ribs, and a large chunk of my bowel.
Not that long ago I was lying on a treatment couch surrounded by people, and having a camera shoved up my ass, for the umpteenth time in the last 5 years, and having banal conversations as if having a pipe the size of a fully grown python searching for food up my jacksie was an every day occurrence and of course, I couldn't feel a thing (yeah right!). Why would I worry that a male aged no more than 15 was manipulating it, and had full view of my rear end in all it's glory. I could go on for aeon's about the laxatives you have to take the day before but I won't. I think by now you should get the picture.
I think I should get to the point.
To be the do-ee, the person who is receiving the treatment, is easier than being the do-er. The do-ee has too much to deal with on a daily basis for hand wringing, worry etc. You just have to get on with it, get past it, and get on with life after indignities and missing organs.
Yes, yes I know. I'm getting there.
Mr. Kats is now in possession of dangerous numbers. 8.9 cholesterol and high blood pressure. So now I'm on the other end and worrying. Buying low cholesterol cook-books, changing the food we eat and every 5 minutes scrutinising the colour of his face. This morning I even checked to see if he was breathing. Paranoid? Who me? Never!
Angry is what I am, that someone I love is in potential danger. I want it, so he doesn't have to deal with it and the fear that goes with it.
I do hope however, that he finishes fitting those engine gaskets.
Kats :0(


Blogger Lightning said...

Another way of looking at it is, with all these bits missing, there is less chance of them causing further problems. That's what I tell my wife anyway.

2:33 PM  
Blogger Kim Ayres said...

I was looking for an opportunity to post "42" back on your site, and with a title like "Dangerous Numbers" I thought I was in luck.

After reading it though, it didn't seem appropriate.

7:32 PM  
Blogger kats said...

Lightening - I don't miss my bits but I would miss Mr. Kats desperately.

Kim - perhaps 160 over 98 would be more appropriate.

9:07 AM  
Anonymous Grietje said...

Hi Kats, could you check your fsnet account, please, there's a few bits of mail in there from me.

8:57 AM  
Blogger Gaea Phoenix Qandromeda said... issues...*sighs* stranger to that am I.

That is unhappy news, indeed. I can't blame you for being angry. It is a frustrating fact of life that it will sneak up on you with an ill-timed "GOTCHA!", the psychological effects can be likened to accidentally snorting some of the piping hot coffee you were about to enjoy down your throat, which results in spilling the rest down your favorite light-colored shirt...pain and inconvenience. Though the timing is bad, the reality is worse, and the well-meant but completely ineffectual words of solace from friends & family are nearly unbearable at times likes these. You can't decide whether you want to talk about it or forget about it.

I DO hope, however, that both of you are doing better, since I'm coming to this post rather late, and am gathering from the absence of posts after this one that you have been too busy with "life" to do more writing.

Take care, Kats. We look forward to hearing from you soon.

11:44 PM  

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