Displacement activites

Still existing and abiding. The day-to-day stuff has been boring and individual, involving a) family medical rollercoasters and b) excess time at work.

On the subject of a), I now boast an extensive knowledge of the aetiology and neurophysiology of emesis and hiccups. The routes of the vagus and phrenic nerves are now an open book to me, as are the neurophysiology of gut motility, reverse peristalsis, the area of the 4th cerebral ventricle, the CTZ and the vomit centre in the dorsal medulla. None of this research made a scrap of difference to my poor dad's symptoms, but kept me well occupied in displacement activity for a good while. For the last week we've had wonderful attention from proper doctors and nurses who've effected enormous improvement in my dad's symptoms. This week I love the NHS, their local Oncology and Palliative service staff (WGH) and the drugs of Big Pharma!

On b), extra work hours at odd times and weekends; there was about a month of that, but it's finished now. Despite my constant pissing, moaning and feeling tired all the time, totting up absolute weekly hours showed I took them all back as I went. A Monday off after a 7.30am-noon Saturday shift seemed purely humane (and a poor replacement for a proper weekend), but could represent a 3.5 hour debit on the timesheet. That's about what you deserve if you're idiot enough to agree to work at stupid o'clock and on weekends whenever The Man snaps his finger, without a prior agreement of terms.

The full moon towards the end of last month was stupendous, coinciding with a stretch of cloud-free weather and brittle cold. That weekend she was popping up on the skyline wherever I was heading, and we started playing keekaboo. A highlight was when on a smoke break outside a conference. It was only 3pm and still daylight, and the toddler in fluffy pink pointed her out (now 7/8) with a silent baby-toothed grin.