There is a paucity of good cheer in chez Strachan at the moment. Uncertainty in many aspects of Karen’s and my life all currently contribute to a melting pot of uneasiness; causing self-doubt and the taunting our minds.
Focussing on things we can change has to be our priority. However, a combination of concerns creates a synergy of apprehension, clouding judgement and diverting us from a more positive path.
One of the things playing on Karen’s (and to some extent my) mind is her upcoming cardio procedure, which I wrote about at length in yesterdays blog.
An angioplasty is a common procedure these days, carried out under local anaesthesia. That being said, this journey into the unknown understandably worries my wee spouse. The fact she has bravely endured nine months of chemotherapy, in addition to numerous other procedures and scans for over half a decade, does nothing to negate her anxiety about tomorrow.
Julie Andrew’s used to sing about her favourite things when she felt low in the movie ‘The Sound of Music’. However when I suggested it to her earlier as a possible therapy, my wife of 28 years was disinclined to attempt this.
Karen didn’t elaborate on her reasons, however I can understand her reticence. After all, her favourite things (going to Roundhay Park with Kath and Jean, exchanging recipes with her sister and listening to her mum’s negative shite) would not be easily incorporated into the lyric of the song.
I’d proffer this rewrite would detract from the charm of the original song. Julie Andrew’s iconic words of raindrops on roses, whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles and warm woollen mittens have an endearing fluency; something Karen’s favourite things couldn’t hope to match.
Incidentally, my overt cynicism above should be taken with a pinch of salt, as it’s born from the disappointment of being left out of my wife’s favourite things list!
One thing for sure is that an angioplasty, or indeed any other of the medical procedures/treatments she’s had to endure over the last six years, will definitely not be in her favourite things list.
As I write this section of the narrative a fly has entered chez Strachan through the open kitchen door. As it buzzes back and forward past my face, it appears to be in a state of distress as its attempts to get back outside have been thus far unsuccessful.
I’m finding the irritating sound of the buzzing and it’s flight path which, due to a French air traffic controllers strike, is inches from my nose highly distracting.
I suggested to the fly of the alleged merits of singing about your favourite things as a therapy its obvious anguish at its plight…….. Either that or just fly out of the sodding big space which is the gaping back door.
The diptera opined that vocalising about horse manure, irritating people and hovering around cows arses aren’t suitable subject matter for a song from a family movie. I had to concur with its sentiments.
Thankfully, having this opportunity to unload via the medium of writing has helped me to re-focus somewhat. After all, I thought I had problems, if I was a fly my favourite things would be horse manure, irritating people and hovering around cows arses! …….. Although that being said, irritating people probably is one of my hobbies!
I’ll bring this narrative to a conclusion now as I want to check my missus is feeling any less strained. I suspect her answer may be “I was when you were inside writing and not distracting me!”
