Thursday, February 11, 2010
Its a bit sickening
I am out! Last drip of liquid went in at about 9.30 and I was home in my own bed by 10.15. Gorgeous proper sleep for eight hours, on and off of course.
The sickness hit yesterday morning, for me it wasn't the low or even high level constant nausea I was expecting but a quick unmistakable flutter and then the full monty. The last time was about 3.00pm yesterday so maybe I will be free today, keep getting the odd twinge but so far so good. Stewart was there for the 3.00pm performance and so knows the speed it comes on with etc.
He is no stranger to my vomit of course after 41 years and 352 days of marriage and in fact it probably sealed our fate about 45 years ago. It's hard to believe now but both of us were athletes, he was county champion at hurdles and I was at 100 metres. The first time he took me anywhere, and it was before we were "going out" as such. he offered to give me a lift to the athletics track for training. He wasn't a regular there but was trying to get fit after a lay off and a time of beer swilling late teens over-indulgence. I hadn't warned him about my problem. You see I could run as fast as the wind for 100 metres (well it was yards in those days) but that was my lot and I was inevitably sick after a few sprints. So on our first time out together as he loped over to me after his training stint, I was just at my lowest ebb and whoosh out it all came over his nice green spikes. Not a good start you might think but I clearly made an impression as he asked me out well and truly properly when he dropped me back home. I say well and truly properly I had up to that point been wooed by others in cinema backrows where I had probably paid for my own seat, or from time to time on park benches. This was an invitation out to lunch, proper posh and I seem to remember he brought me flowers.
The downside was his car which didn't have much in the way of brakes and the seats weren't fitted well. As I got in trying to look up to a lunch date (I was very young!). The seat fell backwards and I was left flailing about legs akimbo. How could a man resist such elegance and composure. He used to tell me he loved me for my lack of sophistication, good job really.
Three years later, readers I married him.