The Oracle Speaks (again)

My mother was always full of great advice. She never took it, but she gave it very freely. I never took it, either-do we ever? But I take after her in only that way: I give great advice, but never take it myself.

So-there are two pieces of advice that I have now learned (the hard way, of course, the way I learn every lesson!), and I would like to pass them on.

First: never volunteer for anything. My mother always said that, but she volunteered for everything. There weren't enough hours in the day - people always knew to call on her when they were in a bind-or when they just didn't feel like doing anything themselves. I have always done the same thing (I did say I never took her advice, didn't I?). So now, unless something really presses my passion or enthusiasm buttons, I either say no, I'm too busy-or I make excuses until the person goes and finds another mug. I have been asked to work as a volunteer (yep-that means I don't get paid) for a new charity that needs an advocate. This really hit the passion and enthusiasm buttons in a big way, so I said yes. Like I said, nobody can wither like I can wither! Advocacy: just perfect for me, since I will fight for someone who needs help. I've learned over the last 82 (nearly 83) weeks to fight for my rights. Why not help someone else do the same for theirs?

Second piece of advice: never answer the phone when you are in the toilet. Ever. When the phone rings and you are in the loo (also known as toilet, WC, john, bathroom, or whatever euphemism is popular wherever you are reading this-except, of course, in the loo), ignore it. Nobody ever got good news in the loo!!

My mother would hear the phone ring (no mobiles in those days) and just about rupture herself sprinting out of the bathroom to answer the phone, which inevitably stopped ringing as soon as she reached it. I always thought that was extremely funny-evidently I was the only one in my family who thought so.

Of course, now that we have mobiles, we just take them with us everywhere. Anybody can reach us at just about any time. Of course, there ARE times when you want to switch off the phone completely. I don't really need to talk about those, do I? Come on, leaving the phone on? What a total passion killer!! If you do that, you deserve to sleep alone. (LOL)

This is a nice intro to yesterday, when I was in the library loo and just about to leave. My mobile went off, my hands were wet because I had just washed them, and I debated: do I or don't I? I did. And, as I said, nobody ever gets good news if they answer the phone while in the loo.

It was the hospital, telling me I have been booked for a PET scan next week. This is like going into a huge MRI machine-I saw one once and it is several times the size of a usual scanner, and the room is kept at sub-Arctic temperatures, and you are in this thing for well over an hour (if I remember correctly). It scans the entire body, and any malignant areas light up like a Christmas tree. It's one step beyond the lymph node ultrasound. It reminds me of the episode of the X Files, where someone goes into a scanner and spontaneously combusts. That was a great episode; whenever I have to go for a scan, I tell everyone in the waiting area. You should see their faces! I know, I am such a prat.

I was told not to eat anything for six hours before the scan. I'm sure that this is because the thing microwaves all your organs while you are lying there, told not to move-who doesn't move? A corpse doesn't move. The rest of us have to pretend to be - well, deceased - which we will be if we are microwaved or we spontaneously combust. Can you imagine having a bowl of oatmeal before the scan? It would probably be microwaved into concrete. Ever pass concrete? No, me neither.

Well, obviously I am joking-perhaps. What I do know is that I will be injected with a radioactive substance (my veins again. These guys just love to mangle my veins),and that I will be radioactive for several days after the scan. So anyone within a five mile radius will be rendered incapable of having children, and it will be my fault. Oh, well-my contribution to birth control.

I did ask the consultant if I would glow in the dark for those few days. He just smiled, looked at me like I'm pathetic, and patted me on the head as if I am two years old.

These people have no sense of humour. If the phone rings while you are in the loo-ignore it.