Doctor’s this morning – temperature fine, I’ve got a bit of a snuffly shivery thing going on but other than that, nothing to worry about – only need to go into hospital if I get a sore throat.  Feeling better than yesterday, at any rate. Julia’s coming over later to make fairy cakes which I’m looking forward to. Lovely girl with pink icing, what a nice picture she makes. 

I felt very curmudgeonly this morning though, sat in the doc’s waiting room. There was this little girl, about two years old I guess, and she was playing around like a loon, screaming periodically, ruffling up all the magazines, knocking into my boots, and I normally love children but Jesus – I really did feel like picking her up in my arms and depositing her somewhere far far away from me. I’m so paranoid about picking up a virus – frantically using the foamy hand soap every time I touched anything in the waiting room.

You know what though – I always feel so much better when I’ve been to the doctors. The nurses and health care assistants are so loving and sweet. I got hugged three times. It reminds me of that Rimbaud poem about the lice pickers; being fussed over by women always makes me want to cry and regress into a little mewling child. 

“Come on in Arthur, some and sit down with me, darling.”

And I happily play the role of unwell boy. There’s something about being loved by women, isn’t there? Something special.


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