Saturday …

This week I found myself looking for a mother, not my mum she is dead. Any mum would have done; to talk too. tell me they cared, smooth my brow and give me hug. This is not something I would have expected from my mother she didn’t do smoothing of brows like other mums.  

So there I was [full of prescribed drugs for so called sciatica/lumbago] on my way my way and early for an acupuncture session  in the centre of Reading, sidling up to to any likely person as they huddled with a fag and mobile phone in the drizzle as the light failed, oblivious to their bench buddy, blubbing like a baby, mascara streaming down her face …

… I had an appointment to keep and my new found friends were not playing.  I underwent treatment but was advised that while taking such a deadly (addictive) cocktail of painkillers I would not get better.  

So within 24 hours I had an appointment with an osteopath and more important a telephone conversation with my Doctor telling her I wanted a more manageable dose of painkillers.  She was difficult to persuade and even tried to me to take something for the depression saying ‘we don’t want that little chestnut to creep in … and find you sidling up to strangers again to we?’  

I don’t know what happened that afternoon … sufficed to say I didn’t find my mum but  got some good advice ..  maybe I just hug myself and that will do!