The end of an era

Everyone knows how I feel about politicians: they are the lowest form of life-apart from certain doctors I could mention, and, of course, people from Essex. Politicians are, by and large, the lying, cheating, stealing bottom-feeders of life. You can't trust them to give you a straight answer, or to tell you the truth, or to answer any questions honestly. Trusting a politician to tell you the truth is like standing face to face with a starving tiger and trusting him not to eat you.

Of course, there are other bottom-feeders-I just mentioned some of them. We all have our examples, don't we? And-that brings me to Margaret Thatcher, who died this week at the age of 87. This really is the end of an era, at least, in British politics.

Love her or hate her (and camps are full on both sides), she wasn't someone you could easily ignore. Thatcher made a lot of mistakes when she was Prime Minister, but she did a lot of good things for the country, too. She brought back the feeling of Britain being a major player on the world stage. This, sadly, has been completely destroyed by the idiots who came after her: Major, the odious Tony Blair, and so on, right up to the constipated coalition, Pinky and Perky. We have Cameron and Clegg, two incompetents for the price of one, and neither is of any value at all. The country is down the toilet-just waiting for someone to do the final flush. Poor old Maggie would be (and probably was) horrified to see the decline in the country she loved.

Thatcher had more balls than all the politicians in Whitehall put together. She was opinionated, strong, forceful, powerful, didn't tolerate stupidity or incompetence-ballsy and gutsy, she said what she thought, and if people didn't agree with her, she didn't care. She knew what she wanted and she went after it-and woe to the people who disagreed. In spirit, temperament and personality-she was the perfect New Yorker!! No kidding!!

There is nobody in this country who has the ability to lead like Margaret Thatcher. Britain is accustomed to wimps and wishy washy leadership-so of course Thatcher was on the weak person's hit list. In fact, I don't know if we in the US have any women who have the Thatcher strength (and determination) to lead and to take the hits for what they believe needs to be done (please don't mention that pipsqueak from Alaska. The very thought of having her anywhere near the White House sent me running for the sick bag!!).

Thatcher's death and the resulting comments from other politicians brought back so many memories-she was PM when I came over here. Some memories were good, some were less good. But I certainly had a few days to consider my life in the years I have lived here. What on earth was I thinking???? No wonder I felt a bit depressed!!!

Honestly, I haven't had the time to feel very down for very long. I had to do the doctor thing this week, I am prepping for my excavation on Wednesday-and yesterday I spent a lot of time on the phone with the people at the RNOH, trying to sort them out about this knee surgery I am dreading. By 5pm it was all sorted. Finally. And I learned something else (well, I really knew this before, but I relearned it yesterday): if you want something done, or you want something straightened out, do it yourself, and don't stop until it's finished. Never let other people do something you can do (and better) yourself. The Royal National Orthopaedic Hospital is one of the best in the country (God help us all), but when the admin people get information and then pass on the wrong information, it takes hours-sometimes days, or weeks-for them to get it right. It's like the old game of telephone we used to play: what you say becomes all distorted by the time you have passed the message on to other people.

Never mind, it has all been sorted out now, and I am still terrified of what will now be a hospital stay of nearly three weeks (assuming, of course,that everything goes according to plan. And when does anything ever go according to plan?). But the doctors and all the hospital staff will be extremely careful during my stay. It seems that I am the only patient they have ever had who was born with CVID-so everyone knows who I am now. I will have to be on my best behavior. I feel like a bug under a microscope.

I saw Margaret, my GP, yesterday, and that was what sparked off all the calls to the RNOH. Someone from there had rung her-and had all the wrong information, so I told her I would fix it. I did just that, and I didn't stop until everything was sorted and everyone had the correct information. But Margaret made a comment that bothered me. She said that I am lucky to have lived this long, and to be this healthy (well, health is a relative term, isn't it?), given that I have CVID and all the genetic problems that go with it.

Well, thanks, just what I didn't need to hear-or perhaps I did need to hear, because the doctor from the RNOH said the same thing. That just reminds me that I need to stop wasting time, wasting my life, and get out there and do things. Every second feeling depressed, or victimized, or dizzy, is a second that I am wasting, and those seconds will never come again.

This will be another challenge-in a life filled with challenges: not only will I need to relearn how to walk after the surgery, but I will also need to do so without the aid of a vestibular system. And I will not be able to fall over, because that will undo all the work that is being done.

Huh. Thatcher wasn't the only one with a good set of balls. I've got a good set of my own. I don't run from challenges (usually I just fall over). I haven't lived this long to quit now. So watch this space.