I'd love to take the credit for those very true words-cynic that I am-but the person who first coined that expression was Tom Lehrer, one of the foremost satirists of the 70s (1970s, not 1870s). He was popular in the 60s, too, I believe...I wasn't around then, but if you want to hear his hilarious satirical songs, you can find him on YouTube. You can probably find just about anything on YouTube. Just look him up and have a good listen. I especially like National Brotherhood Week. Very un-PC. Nobody would have the guts to write and sing that now. They'd be shot.
It hasn't been a terribly exciting month. We had Easter, of course-and I had to buy my chocolate Easter egg, something I do every year. I put chocolate in my mouth and immediately I can feel my waist expand.
My not so great news came from the cardiologist. It seems that I've had a large number of tachycardia attacks, and now the cardio team is recommending another ablation, since the first one wasn't really successful. And here's the weird thing (oh, bless the NHS for total incompetence): the surgeon who performed the ablation last year has left the Royal Free (very wise decision, in my view) and has jumped ship and gone to Barts Heart Centre. Hmmm...so the cardiology team at the Royal Free (whose job it is to monitor the device in my chest that monitors my heartbeats) don't want to contact Barts, because it isn't part of the Royal Free. Duh. You would think that they would all talk to each other-but they don't...Am I going to be proactive and start fighting? No, I think that I've done enough fighting. I'll just wait for someone to call me next week and offer a solution that isn't more surgery. I'm surgeried out.
Of course, this wouldn't be right if I didn't mention the Will Smith attack on Chris Rock-only in front of millions of witnesses. And then cursing at the poor man afterwards. Smith is such a thug. And it seems that people loved it. The Oscars must have been really boring-or a lot of people are vicious and have very boring lives. I never watch that stuff. It's all self-congratulatory BS and who needs that?
I ran into a neighbor a few days ago (figuratively, not literally!) who was on his way to the pub, where he buys his daily pint of beer. His wife watches tv and sends him out to the pub so he can leave her alone, After 65 years of marriage (65, he told me!! Wow, I reached 20 and I was ready to commit homicide), who can blame him for a few hours a day propping up the bar at the boozer? He was carrying a large bag, and he showed me a pair of boxing gloves. Boxing gloves? Yes, he said: in case Will Smith shows up.
My neighbor is 92. I couldn't help but laugh. Awww, come on, it is really funny. Personally, I'd carry a can of mace, but that's me...
I finally got my anatomical charts. They were being reprinted when I ordered them, so that took awhile. And now my hallway closely resembles a doctor's office. It's great... I decided that the worst thing I can do is allow myself to wallow in self pity about the cerebellar damage. It's done, it can't be undone-or so the specialists say. It might take months to achieve something, but hey, I've got time. I hope.
I will keep you posted; right now, it's coffee time.
