I WILL PREVIVE [The Book Of Baps] diary extract, 1 June 2017


“I took a seat in the waiting room and Annie then Michael then Phil played in the background on Gold FM. Déjà vu? Almost. All the signs seemed good on my unscenic drive there through the blurbs: sunshine on a rainy day, a broken carpark barrier and a cheery receptionist who laughingly remembered my begging performance on the blower. Ha! Hide.

Five days on, Dr. Gallstones appeared to still like me and he cut straight to the chase announcing, “I’m putting you down for category 1 urgency on the public hospital waiting list.” (Dear sweet God, THANK YOU!!!) Then he said, “This is my best recommendation for a YOUNG MUM like you.” Oh, how I laughed in my head. (Sad face on the outside.) Did he not recall my vintage was ’77, and not ’87? Either way, we were straight back to ways of seeing, especially as SUDDENLY I could also see printed signs slagging off my health insurer all over the waiting room. The language of signs is always there. You just have to make sure you are reading it! (New health insurer recommendations for a young mum like me also warmly received.)

So the worst case scenario is a one month wait. S’ok, I’m really good at waiting. Reeeeeally, really good! And if the pain is terrible in the meantime I will just go to emergency at exactly the same hospital anyway and implement plan C. The first day of winter does not look too shabby after all but I can not fully explain the mental tripping involved in this recovery period. High then low: REPEAT. That whole ‘how long is a piece of string’ thing. It’s paralysis. I am looking forward to actually advancing in life instead of continually meeting myself coming backwards. I am looking forward to doing my natural thing and getting back on the paints. I am looking forward to talking about something much more interesting than myself one day soon. So here the people’s homegirl. It’s Heather Small. She colour my life.”


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June 1, 2017