I seem to have spent all my time crying recently.
On Monday, I stopped off at the supermarket after work to pick up a few bits. While I was at the checkout, one of the staff fell and gashed her arm on some broken glass. Her supervisor was practically apoplectic with panic and was screaming for an ambulance and the store first aider. The girl on the floor was white with shock as the blood was pouring out. I don’t know when I became so squeamish but I felt very faint at the whole spectacle and I actually wanted to rush out but I was in the middle of the whole packing and paying exercise. As I left, I looked at the poor girl again and she didn’t look in a good way with everyone crowding around her and suddenly I was crying. I rushed to the car and it took me a while to compose myself. I really hope she is OK.
Then on Tuesday, we all went to see Toy Story 3 as my teens were keen to see how the films they had grown up with concluded. We went with no expectations as I warned them that it was unlikely the third film could live up to the other two. How wrong was I – it was brilliant ! But towards the end, it set out to pull heartstrings and instead of a discreet tear, I was sobbing loudly …..much to the embarrassment of my children.
And then yesterday, I went to the hospital.
I really tried hard to be matter of fact about it but to no avail. I thought I was calm while I was in the waiting area which was for all outpatients. But then, this big woman came in, pushed to the front of the queue and said that she had been told to go to the wrong place where she had been waiting for ages and now she was late and she better not have missed her appointment or there would be hell to pay. The receptionist asked her nicely to wait her turn but no, she carried on shouting until she was finally booked in and told to take a seat. Then a mobile phone rang out and the Indian man who owned it answered it, admittedly quite loudly. This of course sent the crazy lady into a frenzy and she started shouting at him to turn it off as they weren’t allowed in hospital and then she delivered a monologue about how “these people” shouldn’t even be given treatment on the NHS which she had paid for all her life and suddenly others were telling her to shut up and she shouted back and you guessed it, I was crying again.
It was really embarrassing! I was trying not to which of course made it worse and I kept my head down and let my hair fall around my face as I tried to wipe away the tears without being seen but they kept coming and then I looked up and a muslim woman, in full burkha, offered me what looked like a used tissue and that kindness made me cry even more as I said no thank you and then rummaged around in my bag for my own but it was no good, I had to go to the loo to blow my nose and pull myself together.
Fortunately, almost as soon as I came back to the waiting room, I was called in to see the doctor. She was a gentle woman with a kind looking face and so of course when she asked me if I was OK, I started crying again and then there were two nurses with me making a fuss of me and getting me water and tissues and telling me that it was completely natural to be nervous but that they would be with me and everything would be OK.
After taking my history, the doctor started the procedure and explained what she was doing at every stage. I had pretty much calmed down when she suddenly said she was sorry but she needed to call in the consultant. When the nurse squeezed my hand, I could feel the tears pricking my eyes again….
They were streaming down my face by the time the consultant came in. He had a look and then said that they were a bit worried about an area behind the neck of the womb which they couldn’t see as clearly and so he was going to take a biopsy. He warned that it could be uncomfortable and asked if I wanted a local anaesthetic but said that if I could bear it, he could do it very quickly without. Stupidly I agreed and oh bloody hell it was painful and whatsmore he decided to take THREE bits out of me !! But as they had already seen the tears I decided to just let all pride go out the window and cry like a baby. I mean proper bawling.
I thought I was OK today but I’ve just half-watched that Panorama programme about some undercover filming in a vets’ practice where the animals were treated really cruelly and that has set me off for the night.
My family have fled to safe areas in the house and I am writing this in paroxysms of spluttering sobs. I might never stop.
Bloody pathetic !
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