Bitch on the Blog

August 24, 2013

Damage limitation

Filed under: Despair — bitchontheblog @ 05:26
Tags: , , , , ,

A serious question. Do I want an answer?

Why is it often the smallest injuries which hurt the most? Yes, just nibbed myself. Obviously, not having had gangrene, not even gout, no one has yet felt obliged to chop off one of my legs. So I have little to compare anything to.

Once upon a time I went to A&E by taxi, another time BY BUS (one can’t drive with two broken arms – not even with one broken arm). Which reminds me. Here is one for you, John: The time with two broken wrists and arms (can one sue potholes on a British pedestrian walkway on a sunny Sunday morning?) I slept on the whole thing. Hoping it would go away. It didn’t. Next morning I got myself a taxi minus shoes. Didn’t have strength of put them on. Neither could I find flip flops. I delivered myself barefoot. One would hope for sympathy, keep the tea. Oh no, I got a mega bollocking no sooner had I set foot into hospital. Not so much because they thought my nakedness would contaminate anyone else. But that I might “pick up” something. Calm down, dear. It’s only two broken arms. I’ll live with the rest of the fall out.

As I have remarked once before (please do indulge my fears for a moment) there are only three things (apart from anything befalling the Angel) which terrify me: I have had a close shave with one, I have had a taste of another, the third looming large. HELP!

The taster being my wrists. I was incredulous. One is bad. Two is not only careless but will reduce you to pointless tears. There was nothing I could do. Serves me right. Since I am a doer. Best that can be said that I had plenty of time to revisit all those Bette Davis movies. Which nearly led to me taking up smoking again. She did it so well. As did Lauren Bacall. Yes, wrists. It’s why I am glad I don’t live in a country where they chop off your hand should you steal a loaf of bread. I don’t actually believe it’s humanly possible to chop a hungry person’s hand off. Not least because the damage is irreversible. Talk about a life sentence. No doubt one of the reasons I often bake my own bread.

Anyway, Sweethearts, think about what is indispensable to you. And thank every day you are intact.

Correction: Thank every day you are intact. DO NOT think about what is indispensable to you. It’ll  give you the collywobbles.




  1. Intact is a highly subjective word. I am by and large intact physically but mentally, it is a totally different story. On most days I am intact there too, but on some, just some, I can be devastatingly nuts. Your Angel’s counterpart here and now his delightful bride have learnt to read the signals and keep a safe distance from me on such days. I think that it is just being normal and if that is the trouble with you, be happy that you are too.

    Comment by Rummuser — August 24, 2013 @ 06:21 | Reply

    • Interesting angle, Ramana. Mood. And where it takes you. I associate ‘moods’ with the male of the species. Or maybe it’s not so much mood as ‘irritability’. To me a peculiarly ‘man’ thing, closely linked to impatience. Can’t say I like it. Puts me on edge. Mainly because, when it strikes, there is nothing you can do right. Or, heaven forbid, SAY right. I recently remarked to the Angel (who is one of the friendliest and most laid back people any other time of the day) that he reminds me of his maternal grandfather first thing in the (early) morning. Actually, that made him laugh. First thing in the morning! A fine achievement if ever there was one.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — August 24, 2013 @ 08:28 | Reply

  2. You don’t do things by halves do you?
    I remember one (name with held) who slid down the Geo-dome (a type of climbing frame based on Buckmeister Fuller’s invention) and broke both wrists.The school secreatry, from whom Margaret Thatcher probably took lessons, insisted that nothing was wrong with him. The next day she sustained a black eye. In this timeshe would have been suspended and sued as well.

    Comment by magpie11 — August 24, 2013 @ 10:08 | Reply

    • No, I don’t do things by halves, David. Which is why I am so glad I am not an octopus (or a spider). Eight of everything. Doesn’t bear thinking about. As to the rest of the story (I take it it was you sliding down) I can’t quite get my head round it. I will not be drawn on my liking Margaret Thatcher. Many years ago I told the Angel to never ever let on to anyone about my fondness for the woman. Too dangerous.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — August 24, 2013 @ 15:01 | Reply

      • No. not me a pupil….. It does not surprise me that you liked MT….. there was a lot to like and admire but there was something that I cannot put my finger on that I cannot like….. her divisiveness? One thign though…Scargill was wrong to take her on as he did….

        Comment by magpie11 — August 25, 2013 @ 11:50 | Reply

  3. Well, apart from my hands, I would be pretty devastated if I lost the use of my legs or my eyes. My sense of smell has been virtually non-existent for many years but taste is more important to me than smell.

    As for moods, irritability and impatience, I know plenty of women who fall into that category! A very bogus gender distinction there, I think.

    Comment by nick — August 24, 2013 @ 13:13 | Reply

    • Sorry, Nick, what I wrote is not “a very bogus gender distinction”. Not at all. As you know I do not like generalizations. And I most certainly, unlike you do sometimes, do not pit the two genders against each other.

      However, we all draw conclusions from the relatively small puddle and experience of our own circle. Whilst there have been, and still are, some wonderful and formidable women in my life I am/and have been largely surrounded by men. From day one. Different from each other – spanning the whole spectrum from daredevil to potential saint. Old and young. If there is one thing I associate with men it’s kindness. Tenderness. Maybe I have been very lucky. Except in the morning. Personally I blame shaving for a man’s tetchiness at that time of the day.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — August 24, 2013 @ 14:56 | Reply

      • PS Where that leaves bearded men and THEIR excuse I do not know.

        Comment by bitchontheblog — August 24, 2013 @ 14:56 | Reply

        • I daresay men’s tetchiness early in the morning is more likely to be caused by the thought of all those boring and unfulfilling things they’re obliged to do during the day. Same as women, really. Can’t say shaving has ever made me feel irritable. Spilling my breakfast cup of tea, on the other hand….

          Comment by nick — August 24, 2013 @ 16:13 | Reply

        • As a bearded man I can say, no where. My testiness on the rare morning that is, is usually after I had had a night of disturbed or inadequate sleep. No more no less.

          Comment by Rummuser — August 24, 2013 @ 21:39 | Reply

          • Thinking a little more about it, Ramana, I have come to conclusion that some people (men!) need a bit of a warm up period when facing a new day. Close shave or beard. Makes no difference. Unfortunately, all my life I keep forgetting the very simple rule of keeping communication cordial by not saying a word. Instead of which like bird looking for a worm I will twitter away merrily. Many a time the Angel will call me on his way to work saying: “Mama, sorry about earlier.” Which I think sweet and considerate. That is a grace he has over his grandfather who, I believe, doesn’t even notice how grumpy he is in the morning.


            Comment by bitchontheblog — August 25, 2013 @ 08:19 | Reply

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