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Summer holidays and assorted nonsenses have been happening-
We went up to Mexico for the holiday season in a family
group and we ALL got sick, but we had two bathrooms and a balcony with a charming
view of the water, so it turned out a perfectly presentable holiday.
I started the wave with a serious dose of food poisoning on
Christmas Eve, and won a very SPECIAL Christmas present- a house visit from the
handsomest young doctor in South America.
Have you seen the film The Motorcycle Diaries? It’s a beautifully filmed love-letter to
South America, and it stars a very young Gael Garcia Bernal at his most
ruggedly charismatic. My doctor looked Just
Like He Did, but with cheekbones even finer and a mouth even tenderer and eyes
that looked directly into your soul and told you that their deepest dream was
to make you all better – MUCH better – right here, right now -
My sister Dr Tabubil hung around the bedroom door frame, gawking,
while Mum shoved at her from behind, whispering “YOU’RE a doctor too – He NEEDS
you to consult! Go!!” One particularly
sharp push sent her lurching into the bedroom and the doctor turned his melting
eyes on HER –
All things considered, the transferal of attention came as
something of a relief. I was sweating,
stumbling, scarcely lucid, and my insides were running backward –
The most STUNNING male physician in the history of the
species was standing in my bedroom, and he was running seriously second in
attractiveness to a mixing bowl.
Mr Tabubil found it all rather amusing. But chose to do his
giggling outside, the balcony, where nobody could hear him.
Why couldn’t Santa have brought me something genteel and conversational
– like consumption?
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