Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred

A Whimsical Daily Diary From Deep Within A Random Mind

Defrosting The Da Vinci Code

Tuesday 24th April – I’m Bexley Wing in situ, sitting on a waiting room sofa adjacent to my wife. Our attendance at the Leeds hospital wing necessitated by her appointment for monthly oncology treatment.

Patients left and right aren’t clowns and jokers – Although we are ‘stuck in the middle’*** of patients and their brood. That being said, the queues aren’t substantial, so stop wittering GJ Strachan and concentrate on this narrative.

*** – Apologies to Stealers Wheel

As my spouse Karen and I recline on this comfortable fake leather settee, we’ve just had two voluntary workers visiting this procrastination chamber. Their well-meaning remit to provide sweets and an orange in return for a supportive hug – A desperate tactic I employed with girls in my teen…….. I hasten to add, I’d significantly less success with this approach than the two volunteers earlier.

Karen is quietly reading her book, undemonstratively waiting for this four-weekly medication. This a treatment undergone by her on around 100 occasions, since her diagnosis of her incurable illness in November 2010……. Very much so the patient patient.

Actually, as the ink commenced drying on my previous sentence, one of the excellent nursing staff called my wife into the treatment room…… Or she would have done if my wife bore the moniker of Albert Trubshaw.

Incidentally, the mistaken identity quip above is delivered with tongue in cheek. The treatment, support and care bestowed upon my incurably ill betrothed has been exemplary throughout her enduring fight with cancer…….. If your reading this Albert Trubshaw, though, we’ve got your haemorrhoid cream.

Anyhow, my wee wife is currently undergoing treatment aimed at inhibiting her numerous tumours. The medical strategy aimed at bestowing greater existential longevity.

As I commence this segment of whimsy it’s four hours since Karen’s treatment. Within that time I’ve dropped Karen off at home, drove to my mum’s, before proceeding to Morrison’s store at Rothwell.

Here my old lady wandered around aimlessly, undertaking purchases of weekly consumables. This incorporated navigating the aisles in such a random fashion it felt like we were attempting to escape Hampton Court maze.

During our time at the south Leeds supermarket we lunched on sandwiches and crisps. To clarify, that was in the store’s café/restaurant, not the Strachan duo consuming (unpaid for) products after pilfering them mid-aisle.

Prior to leaving Morrison’s I felt the need of a bathroom break. An event my clock-watching mater, bereft of the patience shown earlier by my wife, deemed of excessive longevity. Leading to the query on my return of “Where the hell have you been?……. How’ve you been so long?…… Were you too mean to let it go?!”

I offered no explanation, instead admonishing her as an impatient get. We they headed car park bound for our onward odyssey to the Strachan senior residence.

On our sojourn back we discussed the upcoming visit from my brother Ian for the weekend. My younger sibling kindly offering to trek down from Gateshead and assist me in purging mum’s garage contents.

One of the many things mater wants rid of is a tall fridge/freezer which resides in one corner of the room designed for car parking. The fridge is still utilised as a second chiller mainly for beer, vino and soda drinks. However, the freezer hasn’t worked for years (my mum has a working replacement in the kitchen).

I’ve not be inquisitive to look and confirm this, but recently my mum requested our kid and me ensure we empty the freezer compartment prior to disposing of the appliance. According to the septuagenarian Yorkshire lass, our late father had stored numerous hardback books (many of them gifts) inside the freezer. Sought after tomes, some of which haven’t even been read.

Mater hasn’t yet expressed what fate she has in mind for these eccentrically stored literary journals. I just hope, though, that the freezer hasn’t commenced working again since it’s door was last opened (god only knows how long ago).

My bro and I could do without the additional task of having to defrost 20+ hardback books prior to delivery to their next destination.

Categories: Blogs, family, fiction, humour, parody, poetry, review, Spoof News Stories

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