Well the rain's not exactly 'gone', it's more lurking a bit further south, ready to rush up the country like a ferret up a trouser-leg and bite the northeast of Scotland on its delicate unmentionables. That's why people should wear corduroy underpants, much better protection against pointy ferret teeth. I suppose you could try for leather pants, but that would be a bit kinky. As is encouraging small, easily excitable, carnivorous mammals to wheech up your trousers. But you know what I mean.
Anyway, following the weather-related fun of last week's storms and power cuts and sitting about in the kitchen, with the gas hob holding back the October ice-age and naught but flickering candles to read by, it's been a stunner today. Blue skies, shiny sun, warm breeze -- like a little slice of summer at the death of the year. Who would have thought it, just a day before Halloween and we're having a mini Aberdonian heat wave.
And do you know what else today is? It's exactly one week till I go back under the knife for more sinus surgery shenanigans.
Now part of me is a kind of excited at the prospect of finally getting it all over and done with. That this will fix the nasty sinus headache I've had since March, that it'll mean I can finally breathe again, like a normal person, without feeling like I'm trying to inhale half a pound of raw pork and burnt garlic sausages. That things will be all sorted out and little fluffy bunnies will dance around and sing. At least until Grendel: AKA THE KITTEN OF DOOM! -- gets her claws into them.
That said, most of my is more than a little bit concerned about having someone hack more chunks out of the inside of my head. Actually, that's a lie: most of me is bricking it. I'm dreading going back into hospital for another round of bleeding, pain and humiliation. The first time I went in was bad enough -- surfacing after the op to discover that there was only one temp nurse looking after the entire wing, when four of us poor buggers were fresh out of surgery that afternoon. So the unfortunate woman was left running about from room to room, trying to keep everyone under control and in their pos-operative beds, while we just wanted, you know... to get some tissues to soak up the blood so we didn't have to cough it up all over the bed. Fun and indeed games.
The second time I went in I woke up afterwards with my head packed with cotton wool, in a considerable amount of discomfort. OK, let's be honest and call it bastarding pain. Only no one was prepared to give me anything for it -- I mumbled at the duty doctor, only to be told that he'd come back in two hours and see if I was still in pain. Then, maybe he'd give me something. I wasn't best pleased, but bleeding all over the shop and not having eaten or slept for a week and a bit I wasn't up to mounting an armed resistance. And the 'not eating' thing meant I couldn't even go on a dirty protest. Bear in mind that this was a private hospital, and all paid for by INoGITCH's generous medical insurance.
All in all it was a pretty humiliating and horrific experience. So you can probably guess why I'm not really keen to go back. But this time SHE WHO MUST BE FEARED BY HOSPITAL ADMINISTRATORS THE WORLD OVER is going to be at my bedside when I wake up. I was all shy, and didn't want anyone there the last two times, but the next time I come round following a general anaesthetic I can feel safe in the knowledge that if I need something to bleed into, or a bucket of painkillers, there's going to be someone on my side who'll go out and kick someone else's arse for them till the required drugs materialise. Ah yes, sometimes it pays to marry a scary woman from Fife.
In other, non-nose-related news, I picked up my new glasses today, and the world is a much scarier place when you can see it in focus. Plus they make my head look funny. Not funny in a 'laughing with you' kind of way either.