Google is a wonderful thing; if not a little patronising. On return from the abortive trip to France there was a message on my answerphone from someone called Gloria from the hospital; never heard of her but I called and got Helen instead. It seems that a Mr Gullervitch or someone wants to talk to me about a possible operation on my leg to dig out the new sarcoma. I said yes and then tried to google him to see if he deserved to get anywhere near my thigh.
I typed in gullervitch surgeon birmingham and it came back - Did you mean: gurevitch surgeon birmingham? OK clever clogs I suppose I did but how did you know you are just an engine; a load of digital numbers, wires and circuit boards and thingies.
I told Jess about the appointment last night when I left my Greta Garbo hermitage briefly for Harry's 5th birthday and she asked if I would let them cut my leg off - she doesn't beat about the bush my daughter! She was surprised when I said No I didn't think so as for her it would be an obvious choice life or leg, she'd choose life. As I'd still have God knows how many blobs in my lungs and would be a pretty miserable unidexter, I would not.
Let's hope Mr Gurevitch, thank you google, will not be offering me the choice but just doing a bit of lipo and sarcoma reduction on my battered thigh. We will see what we will see.