Pardon my turkey

I'm suffering from blog withdrawal. I did the hospital/physio/consultants run this week, and by the time I got home I was too tired to do anything but sit. I sat. I won't be doing that in the new year, I can tell you!

I looked around last week for some even-handed news-somewhere-you don't get that here, so I did a search on Friday. I found a story that I think is hilarious; you've probably seen this, but for me it was an eye-opener.  Now-you know that I have a very low opinion of politicians (and most lawyers. I say "most" because I have a friend who is a lawyer). But-it seems that the mayor of Seattle decided to pardon a turkey for Thanksgiving: a TOFU turkey. Every year the incumbent idiot in the White House pardons a turkey-so this year, the Seattle mayor pardoned a Tofurkey. How can you not like someone who pardons a Tofurkey?

I just loved the story. He must be a Republican..with a great sense of humor (I'm not sure one could say that about Obama. And I'm not a Republican, so I have no axe to grind).

So I started thinking about the pardoning of the turkey by the White House. And there are some questions that need to be answered. Inquiring minds need to know! Where did the turkey come from? Does it have siblings? What is its background? How old is the pardoned White House turkey? Is it a permanent pardon? Does it go to a turkey sanctuary? Does it get preferential treatment? After all, it has been pardoned by the president, hasn't it? And, crucially, what happens when the turkey dies (of old age, hopefully)? Does it get a decent burial in an animal cemetery? Is it cremated? Sold to McDonald's?

The French pass off horsemeat as prime beef-everyone knows that (that's enough to turn anyone vegetarian!). So is the pardoned turkey passed off as-something else? Chicken?

Of course, I was thinking about all this as I was getting my infusions on Monday. Sue was banging on about her bloodtests, bone marrow, and everything else she could think of that would bore me rigid. I was captive, with a big needle shoved into the double-stuffed Oreo in my chest, so all I could do was close my eyes-and think of turkeys, and other things. I finally pretended to be asleep, so she bored someone else for four hours. And I do this every three weeks. Oh, well-at least I am still alive, that is a bonus.

I've been really busy this week-mostly waiting. In hospitals and clinics here there is a huge amount of waiting. But I did see Lieske, the chest consultant, on Tuesday. Finally-after over a year, because every time I was due to see her I was an inpatient. And she was really nice. In fact, she said I am in really good shape. So I asked: do you mean "for my age"? I get that a lot: I'm in good shape for my age. Errrr...and she said no, that everything is being controlled and that if I only have to be an inpatient for two admissions a year I am doing very, very well. That made me happy. Everything else will be followed up. I just need to be vigilant.

So I have infusions in a couple of weeks, and that is all until a few appointments in January (and February, and March, and so on). I will have plenty of time to do other things. Finally. And my next investigation by Sean has been moved to March-so that will be very interesting indeed.

I was speaking with a friend yesterday, and she reminded me that I have a life-changing condition that I'm lucky was discovered a decade ago-enough time to stop things from getting a lot worse. She also reminded me that none of this is my fault, but I've had CVID from birth-it's nobody's fault. I'm just really lucky that the doctor in Pennsylvania decided to do a battery of blood tests, and that flagged the condition. Lucky. Really lucky. I do have to sometimes explain to people that I have nothing contagious, so that is a bit of extra work-and I've lost friends because they were afraid they might catch something-but then, they weren't friends in the first place, were they?

My friend also pointed out (she can do that; I've known her for over twenty years) that I suffered life-changing injuries four and a half years ago, and reminded me to look carefully at how far I have progressed since then. It was unjust, she said, and the people responsible should have been held accountable-but they weren't. It's time, she said, to let it go. And keep working. And keep walking. And carry on and let nothing and nobody stop me.

I reflected on that this weekend. She is right. I will never give up. I will keep working, exercising, falling over and getting up again. Why? Because they all said I can't.