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?