I have been under the doctor a bit recently. It's probably old age, but I seem to have more and more ailments. Luckily the Belgian health system is top notch, and I have found a nice GP right next door, who sends me off for a different hi-tech examination almost every week. A couple of weeks ago I had to have a camera shoved down my gullet, and immediately afterwards was presented with a full-colour photograph of my duodenum, thankfully with no residual breakfast lurking. Apparently there was nothing seriously wrong, but the doctor informed me that I had a helicopter* in my stomach! Fancy! Perhaps it was a free gift with my cornflakes that I swallowed by mistake. I'm not sure if it is a Chinook or a Sikorsky but it would account for the recent fluttering sensation in my stomach, which was certainly not induced by Bert, who has roared off back to Germany in his "little tank", having cancelled his holiday in Torremolinos in protest at Germany being thrashed by the Spanish in Euro2008 and at Wimbledon.
Last week I had to go for more, different, tests to see why I'm so creaky in the mornings. The doctor explained, as he stuck a needle in my arm, that he would be injecting me with a mildly radioactive solution .... WHAAAAAT?????? I yelled, too late, the stuff was already pumping through my veins. Er, does this mean I'll be radioactive? I asked nervously, peering closely at my hand to see if the greenish glow was visible yet. The doctor smiled. Just a bit, he said. I had to come back a couple of hours later and be put into a big scary machine which photographed me from head to foot.
Well it's not all bad news. I can now microwave my croissants without even getting out of bed and don't have to switch on the light to find my way to the loo. McChe says he can hear me beeping from the next room, but I think that's more likely to be his friend from Alpha Centauri trying to text him more Flatpack End of the World instructions. With radioactivity in my veins and a helicopter in my stomach, I'm starting to feel like a character from "Heroes". I'm not sure yet what superpowers I have, but I'm quickly learning walking up walls isn't one of them, not in the Metro at least.
Meanwhile Belgium's political crisis continues. The Prime Minister tried to resign after a full four months trying to run the country, the King smacked his bottom and sent him back to think again how to resolve this ridiculous ongoing dispute between the Flemish and the Walloons. As far as I can understand, and I beg forgiveness of my Belgian friends if I've got this totally arse-about-face, the Flemish want to claw back part of Brussels purely on the basis that the population of those districts are in the majority Dutch-speakers. The French-speaking Belgians agreed to this but only on condition that other concessions are made, the intricacies of which escape me, and which are apparently inacceptable to the Flemish. And so it goes .... Monday is Belgian National Day of Unity, which is going to be interesting. Personally I am only turning out to see the legendary Eddy Wally of "Eurotrash" fame. He makes the case for Flemish independence better than anyone.
The darkly fascinating Spanish Goth has nominated me for some foreign award for ... er, tapas, I think, which is probably an invitation to have my spam filter reinforced. Can you make tapas with spam? Anyway, according to the rules of said award I must now nominate five other blogs which I admire for their creativity, design, interesting material and for contributing to the blogging community, thus condemning the nominated bloggers to the same tedious chore.
Oh bugger it, I'm not going to. (collective gasp! of shock and awe) You try and make me. I'll take you all down with me. (What? Has she gone mad? Call the blog police ...) I'm Radioactive-Helicopter-Woman, I'm invincible, I'm the military's secret weapon, I'm going to save Belgium ... (noise of sirens approaching) ... beep ... beep ... beep ...
Editor's note:
* helicobacter pylori actually.
Daphne Wayne-Bough will not be blogging for a few days while she has a little lie-down. We hope that the geiger counter will be registering zero by next week. Ow! Stop hitting me you mad cow! No I won't f*** off back to Scotland! You need help, woman! I'm calling the polis!
Last week I had to go for more, different, tests to see why I'm so creaky in the mornings. The doctor explained, as he stuck a needle in my arm, that he would be injecting me with a mildly radioactive solution .... WHAAAAAT?????? I yelled, too late, the stuff was already pumping through my veins. Er, does this mean I'll be radioactive? I asked nervously, peering closely at my hand to see if the greenish glow was visible yet. The doctor smiled. Just a bit, he said. I had to come back a couple of hours later and be put into a big scary machine which photographed me from head to foot.
Well it's not all bad news. I can now microwave my croissants without even getting out of bed and don't have to switch on the light to find my way to the loo. McChe says he can hear me beeping from the next room, but I think that's more likely to be his friend from Alpha Centauri trying to text him more Flatpack End of the World instructions. With radioactivity in my veins and a helicopter in my stomach, I'm starting to feel like a character from "Heroes". I'm not sure yet what superpowers I have, but I'm quickly learning walking up walls isn't one of them, not in the Metro at least.
Meanwhile Belgium's political crisis continues. The Prime Minister tried to resign after a full four months trying to run the country, the King smacked his bottom and sent him back to think again how to resolve this ridiculous ongoing dispute between the Flemish and the Walloons. As far as I can understand, and I beg forgiveness of my Belgian friends if I've got this totally arse-about-face, the Flemish want to claw back part of Brussels purely on the basis that the population of those districts are in the majority Dutch-speakers. The French-speaking Belgians agreed to this but only on condition that other concessions are made, the intricacies of which escape me, and which are apparently inacceptable to the Flemish. And so it goes .... Monday is Belgian National Day of Unity, which is going to be interesting. Personally I am only turning out to see the legendary Eddy Wally of "Eurotrash" fame. He makes the case for Flemish independence better than anyone.
The darkly fascinating Spanish Goth has nominated me for some foreign award for ... er, tapas, I think, which is probably an invitation to have my spam filter reinforced. Can you make tapas with spam? Anyway, according to the rules of said award I must now nominate five other blogs which I admire for their creativity, design, interesting material and for contributing to the blogging community, thus condemning the nominated bloggers to the same tedious chore.
Oh bugger it, I'm not going to. (collective gasp! of shock and awe) You try and make me. I'll take you all down with me. (What? Has she gone mad? Call the blog police ...) I'm Radioactive-Helicopter-Woman, I'm invincible, I'm the military's secret weapon, I'm going to save Belgium ... (noise of sirens approaching) ... beep ... beep ... beep ...
Editor's note:
* helicobacter pylori actually.
Daphne Wayne-Bough will not be blogging for a few days while she has a little lie-down. We hope that the geiger counter will be registering zero by next week. Ow! Stop hitting me you mad cow! No I won't f*** off back to Scotland! You need help, woman! I'm calling the polis!
22 comments:
I do hope these ailments pass quickly, Lady Daphne. I suspect the damp climate might have something to do with it - I myself feel quite creaky in the rainy season. I wouldn't worry about a bit of radioactivity, either, look what it did for Spiderman. Climbing up walls is a skill that will serve you well.
Get better soon, Daffers and make sure McChe looks after you properly. He's good at baby-sitting.
xx
Dear Daphne - So sorry to hear you're feeling low, if not glowing on the outside. I think you will find a course of Drontel tablets will sort you out in no time. Get well soon.
PS - If you do have a problem thinking of blogs to nominate please do not hesitate to submit 'Forever Charlton', which has of course received many other awards. One more will be very welcome however.
that all sounds very exiting, I wish I had a helicopter in my stomach. Let me know if you need anything, I'm only round the corner (round the corner from the fancy wine and chocolate shops)
Chinook? Sikorsky? How about the good old Huey?
:D
Meanwhile, please do take a look at:
http://www.ehow.com/how_2119647_use-cranberry-prevent-h-pylori.html
Bless you Daffers, you poor soul. Bit of a Gyppy tummy? Probly best to avoid tomatoes, plums and strawberries, from what I remember, they're apparently quite acidic. Or is that Hasidic? Stick with the cream of chicken soup.
Chin up, stiff upper lip etc.
xx
ps congrats on the award, it's brilliant, innit?
Thank you, thank you, my dear, dear friends ... (Gloria Swanson pose) ... but I am not infirm, just doing some minor repairs to the old bod. That's not to say I would turn Joliet Jake away if he were to turn up at my door with fancy wine and chocolates ...
Dr Sid, thanks for the cranberry juice tip. It seems to work for Keith Richards who drinks gallons of the stuff, albeit liberally diluted with vodka. The study in question was financed by Ocean Spray - they are a good company, growers' cooperative, so I am sure the results were unbiased. Strange that it worked for women (i.e. those who do the shopping) and not men, wasn't it? Huey is the noise I will be making if the antibiotics don't work.
GB, the Belgian rainy season lasts from September to August. Maybe that's why the Belgians liked the Congo so much they bought it.
Gambo, thanks for the tip, if I ever get worms I will know what to take. I'm not so much low as getting nearer the ground, I swear I'll have a dowager's hump by the time I'm 70. Mind you at that age you're grateful for any kind of hump.
Zoe, thank you dear. Nurse McChe has a marginally less pleasant bedside manner than Nurse Ratched from Cuckoo's Nest. Which is an incentive to get well as soon as possible.
Farty, Hasidic tomatoes are to be avoided at all costs. My Indian doctor (see above) claims cranberries (quite acidic) are good for eliminating helicopters, I bet the Vietcong wished they'd known about that back in 1970. I learned that the major cause of stomach ulcers is not stress, as commonly believed, but a bug. Fancy.
Enfin Libre !!!
My respects, Dame Daphné ,
Est-ce que en dormant tu lévite en envoyant un léger "chant" électrique ?? Cela expliquerai ce bip-bip que peut entendre "McChe"
Je reprends la lecture depuis ma disparition involontaire !
Welcome back Crabtree! I hope you were not abducted by extra terrestrials, although if you had been, I would probably be less surprised than they were.
I am sorry to hear that my paternal homeland is in such dissarray...retreating into homogenous tribal enclaves seems to be the latest trend...so much for the global village? Canada could easily fall into the same trap if we stopped spending billions of dollars to make our country BI...afterall, 1/3 de nous réclamation au parlez français et 85% de eux de phase au Québec.
I hope that your chopperitis disintegrates but it will be cool to be radioactive for a while...can you climb walls and shoot webs yet?
Enjoy your respite.
The trouble with divided countries is they can lead to inhabitants with multiple personality disorder (ahem) ... it's difficult to tell if you are speaking Quebecois or just very bad French there, Prof. Canada produces two very distinct kind of talent - on the one hand you have Donald Sutherland, and on the other hand ... Celine Dion. A better argument for separatism I never heard.
Rotten luck with your helicopters Daphne. The problems of Belgium can go hang in the meantime.
I mean, mayonaise with the pommes frites is a decadence worthy of the last days of the Roman Empire.
On the helicopter front, when you have purged yourself of them, may I suggest you take a daily probiotic yoghurt drink?
mmmmmmm Danone!
Lots of love and good vibes.
AHK
Oh No !! Not by youngs-grey ,no more than small men green !
Mine carried helmets of yellow and red construction site, and I who am the leader in white , que sainte Barbara me protège !!
Otherwise extraterrestrials literally pervaded our beaches , which are recognizable in the skin of alabaster to the point of becoming scarlet red and end up by descouamer as lizards , and they look us us at the "autochtones" as interlopers !?!?!
Je ne fait pas beaucoup de progrès dans la langue de Shakespeare !!
I wish you a good health , Daphné
I hope you are feeling much better soon. The treatment is very effective so just do as they say and all will be well.
I've started 'Midnight's Children' and saw an interview with him which gave me a better understanding but swipe me that book is so heavy to hold in bed . And I don't like to ask MTL to hold it fo me.xoxox
I never realised Wonder Woman had a camel toe. My eyes must have been locked on the cleavage when I was a vulnerable teenager.
You need a mouth-to-stomach missile, Lady Daphs. Beefeater's does good ones. Blast the wee choppers to kingdom come!
Handsome doctor, was he? The one you were under? ;)
Get well soon, dear Daphers.
Thank you again, dear friends, although I must stress once again that I am not in actual fact laid up and am functioning fair to middling. That'll teach me to save writing about my health until I'm at death's door and really need the sympathy.
Doc, if King Albert put his horse in charge of the government, it might improve matters slightly. I don't think anyone here would object.
Crabtree, if I understand correctly, you have been on tour with the Village People? You may comment in French, but it would not be so funny.
Pat, what you need is a young Filipino boy to hold your book and fetch your slippers. You can get one by mail order I believe. Good luck with Salman.
Kim, they look to me like padded knickers. Camel toe! You notty man.
Sam, whatever it is the doc's given me, one glass of wine and I'm out for the count. I have got around this by taking them just before I go to bed.
Daphné ,c'est exactement le fond de ma pensée avec cette traduction ,j'y pensait en le rédigeant et comme toujours une rédaction linguistique que je sais surréaliste ,you are to hyper gifted !!!
L'une de mes voisines(Anglaise) explose de rire chaque fois que je m'exprime dans sa langue natale ,(it is necessary to confess that I play it, and of more verbally it is similar. My poor teachers whom they excuse me ! Devrai-je utiliser Babel fish ??) je tente de rectifier en français mais elle me dit " Change nothing " ???
Le plus surprenant c'est qu'elle ne me corrige jamais ? I suspect it of being a tiny bit scoffing ;)
I'm going to assume that you nominated me, as obviously you meant too. Wooo!
Get well soon m'lady.
Crabtree, Babel Fish speak the truth: change nothing! We like you just the way you are.
Guru, I thall think on't. Glad you made it back safely from Merka. See many people sitting on top of poles over there?
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