football fan

In a break with my normal habits and character, I have watched a full-length football match on the last 2 consecutive evenings. Tuesday night was the cup final of the Yorkshire Christian Football League and Wednesday night I watched Liverpool v Chelsea in the pub (oh dear). Tuesday night definitely more exciting.

This is the first year our church has had a proper football team in a league, and it sometimes seems that mr me and my brother-in-law have talked about little else all year. Mr me is striker and top scorer for the team and my brother in law (or BIL, as I shall call him) is joint manager. The level of obsession could be made clear by a short conversation.

A couple of weeks back mr me stubbed his toe badly on a nail that was sticking up our of our wooden floor.
Half an hour later...
mr me: I'm a bit worried about this toe.
me: Why? What's wrong with it? (visions of toe swollen/ turning black/ falling off)
mr me: I don't know if it's going to affect my play on Saturday...

Anyway, leaving my quibbles and grievances against the team aside, (think I just miss having mr me to myself on saturday mornings), I had a great time watching the game on Tuesday. About half the church turned out to watch them - there must have been about a hundred of us there, compared to about fifteen supporters for the opposition, which made for a great atmosphere. It was a proper ground belonging to a local club, with stands and floodlights and a bar and everything. It was great to have a crowd, and a stand behind us, as it meant we could actually make a proper noise (albiet a rather high-pitched, female-dominated noise). On the few occasions I've been to watch the Saturday morning games there have been 3 or 4 WAGs on the sidelines, occasionally shouting into the wind, but giving up because clearly no-one can hear us. Unfortunately we lost the game 2-0, but everybody played well, and there was no shame in losing to the best team in the division above us really. I enjoyed watching mr me do exciting weave-the-ball-around-the-feet-of-the-defenders things. BIL kindly translated this for me into "when you did get the ball, you beat your man a few times." Tried to encourage him by saying this to him in the car on the way home, but he did seem a bit down. At least playing for the church team seems to have reduced the effect that Liverpool losing has on his mood. Think that having games that he can actually have an influence on has taken away the impact of the learned helplessness of Liverpool games.

5 things you don't know about me

Have been tagged to do this by the adventurous and always interesting Jen.

1. Before I wanted to be a doctor, I wanted to be a farmer (of some idealised organic tiny farm where I got to be friends with all my animals), and then a writer.

2. I am afraid of large crowds where I feel like I can't get out. Rush hour on the trains in Mumbai was my idea of hell. I tell myself this is why I don't go to festivals, but really it's just because I'm not cool enough.

3. Until the recent falling-down-a-hole debacle where I may or may not (probably not) have cracked a rib, I have never broken a bone in my life.

4. Sometimes I do ballet in the corridors when nobody is looking.

5. I was 17 when I had my first kiss, at about 1 in the morning in a car parked at the Prom in Liverpool. It was with mr me.

Making me laugh

Cartoon by Dave Walker. Find more cartoons you can freely re-use on your blog at We Blog Cartoons.

Can't laugh too hard cos it hurts!

doctor/woman fell down a hole...

Yesterday evening, when getting home from work with mr me, I stood on a drain cover on our drive. It was loose and I fell down the hole. Fortunately not all of me fell down because I think I might be more seriously hurt, but my body and one leg went down leaving me suspended between my left arm and right leg on either side of the hole, landing on the left side of my ribs and with one shoe missing. Panicked. Fortunately mr me helped me climb out and got me into the house ignoring the boys who were paused open-mouthed from their game of street football. Then he fed me chocolate and tea and comforted my trembling tearful shock. I was pretty fortunate really - I saw a patient in A+E last year who did a similar thing and fractured his humerus into three pieces. Went to the minor injuries unit for a quick check-up just to be on the safe side, even though I knew what they would say:-

1. your rib may or may not be fractured
2. we don't do x-rays for this because it doesn't alter the management
3. you need to take it easy, take painkillers, take deep breaths
4. if you get short of breath or cough up blood, see a doctor immediately
5. if your rib is fractured the pain will get worse for 3-5 days and may last for up to six weeks

I know all this because I've said it myself a lot of times. Just wanted someone to listen to my chest and prod my back really. The rib that hurts is my left twelfth rib, which is one of the "floating" ribs at the bottom that only connect to the spine, not the sternum, so it's not really hurting to breathe, only to cough and laugh and twist and bend. I was supposed to be on call last night, but called in sick for that and then again this morning. Am actually feeling less stiff, rather than more, today, but do get the occasional sharp twinge. Am starting to get that guilty feeling I always get when I call in sick. I'm not actually dying - what am I doing at home? When I keep still I feel quite comfortable and well. In fact I'm starting to think this whole post is an attempt to justify to myself that I am allowed to be off sick today. Which is ridiculous, so I shall stop it. now.

Easter

Feel a bit short of ideas and inspiration at the moment so can't quite think what to write. Thought would jot down a few random thoughts that occurred to me over Easter. Easter can be a funny holiday sometimes because I feel it's the most important celebration in the Christian calendar, but sometimes it passes by and I hardly seem to notice it, especially if I'm working. Because our church doesn't own its own building and there are a lot of young people in the congregation who tend to go home for the Easter break, there are not normally any extra services at our church for Good Friday or anything. Due to much messing around of my rota at work by HR department, I was at some stages during the week supposed to be working on the Saturday, so we decided to go back to Liverpool (where both our parents live) for the Sunday and Monday, and stuck to the decision even when I wasn't working at the weekend any more.

...On Good Friday I watched a programme on BBC called "Who do you say I am?" which was a meditation and a telling of the Passion story based around works of modern art using the image of the cross by Christian and non-Christian artists. I thought it was a refreshingly good piece of religious programming - not so preachy that it was only watchable by Christians, not deliberately critical for the sake of having a new and controversial approach, but open and asking questions. I found parts of it very moving...

...Decided to go to the local Anglican church for the 2pm service on Good Friday as well with a friend who lives locally and it was refreshing to be in a different church tradition than my own for a while - more meditative and symbolic than what I'm used to perhaps. Not many people there really, but the vicar was very sweet and made a special effort to speak to us...

...Also enjoyed Easter Sunday morning at the church my parents-in-law attend - they had us all write down what Easter Sunday meant to us on little pieces of paper, and stick it to the wall at the front, after listening to a passage being read from Matthew 28:1-10 The thing that struck me most at the time was the phrase "Suddenly Jesus met them." Became newly aware that the Resurrection meant that not only could they meet Jesus again, but that anyone can meet Him, ever since then, if they want to. It is why I can still know Him today. I know this is pretty obvious, but it just reminded me in a new way, OK?...

...I fasted alcohol for Lent, because although I hardly ever drink more than 2 glasses of wine at a sitting, I feel I sometimes use it if I'm particularly stressed and wanting to let go of any worries from the day's events. I don't think that's very healthy. I can see why lots of doctors become alcoholics. So I think it was a success giving it up. At the beginning I thought I would be desperate to have some on Easter Sunday, but as it turns out, I wasn't all that fussed. My first glass of wine did turn my head quite dizzy though...

Drawers

I have sorted through
rose scented talcum powder,
bandages and pearls,
ballroom dancing shoes,
knitting needles,
photos of a pale faced child (me)
and a wooden musical box.

Don't let me have to sort through
fountain pens and assorted nails,
a model knight on horseback,
disposable razors,
botanical linament for joints,
cut out articles on animal rights,
and a leather case with folding coathangers,
At least, not too soon.