You can't help but laugh...

On Friday night's television news, there was an article about thyroid cancer (I heard about this on Saturday morning). The newscaster looked earnestly at the camera (they always look earnestly at the camera) and reported that there is a huge increase in thyroid cancer. The newscaster then reported that this is because doctors are diagnosing it too much.

Indeed! This was the late night news-and I had to laugh when Jessie told me on Saturday. Doctors are diagnosing it too much? If they stop diagnosing it, will it go away?

I just had to laugh-it was that absurd (and appeals to my gallows sense of humor). So I naturally had to share this news with you.

I leave to return to London on Thursday afternoon-a twelve hour journey with the guarantee of at least 5-7 days of jet lag at the end of it. Yuck. My flat-sitting friend will still be there when I get back-happily leaving for home as soon as I have settled in. Then the really hard work begins. Immediately.

I need to pack up everything in the kitchen and put it all in the living room. The builders will be arriving on Wednesday morning at 8am to rip out the kitchen-and I do mean, rip out the kitchen. I will have no cabinets, no sink, no floor-nothing but a shell. And my place is not very big, so I will also have to move everything from one side of the living room to the other. And I have to do all this while suffering the effects of jet lag. Add to that the fact that I have to go to Stanmore on Monday morning to have bloodwork done in preparation for the arthroscopy in April. It's only keyhole surgery to fix the torn cartilage in my left knee-but I still will need to hang out in the day surgery ward for several hours. So pre-admission testing is on Monday. What a joy.

These three weeks have been great. I've had much needed rest, and Jessie and I have done really well, We've mucked in and done housework, cleaning, cooking, and laundry as though I am a roommate, not a guest. At the beginning, we both worried that we would kill each other (figuratively speaking, of course) before the first week ended. We're both so accustomed to living on our own that we weren't sure that three weeks in the same house would work. I'm happy to say that it did; somehow I feel that we achieved something unexpected. Age? Maturity? The honest desire not to kill anyone? Whatever. It was a surprise to me, because I've been divorced for a few years and I'm so much of a loner. And Jessie is, too. We don't need to hide any sharp objects now...

Tomorrow I am going to pack my suitcase (that'll be amusing), and we are going to take it to one of the stores that has a commercial scale. I need to see if it weighs more than fifty pounds. Honestly, I'm sure it does. So I need to call the airline to find out how many pints of blood they will charge me for the excess weight. That could be a very painful and expensive experience!

I'm gearing up to go back. I haven't used my stick every day, and I've been walking a lot. I couldn't have done all the walking the last time I was here-so, pseudomonas or no pseudomonas, I've done really well. I can be proud of myself.

When I get back I will need to lose the weight I gained if I want to fit into the new clothes I bought!

Years ago, I used to come home to New York for antiques fairs (I was in the business at the time). I always took a dozen everything bagels, pastrami, corned beef, several bottles of wine and spirits on the plane back from JFK. I never got stopped. But people around me would be smelling cold cuts all the way across the Atlantic. Naturally, I pretended not to know anything. And when I got to Heathrow, I always went through the green "nothing to declare" section. The customs men invariably sniffed-you could smell pastrami fifty feet before I got to them. I always walked next to someone else, just to be on the safe side. If I'd been caught-well, I would have been in trouble. When the alcohol allowance was three bottles, I brought six. Just in case we had a party.

So on Thursday, I will trust my luck. Who knows? After Thursday I could be blogging from jail...but at least I will have my pastrami.