2007 — 20 October: icy Saturday?

Time now (00:33) and I'm guessing/predicting a frozen start to the day though it's still +3C on our front porch. I shall therefore correct1 my prediction if need be, of course. But I won't be phoning the Girl in hospital too early this time. I'd still like to be there when the surgeon calls in on Her, of course. Let that please not be on Monday morning during my Driving Theory Test!

Recent update: called Her just before 09:00 to hear about Her upchuck last night at 23:00 and just generally chatter about this'n'that. She sends Her love to everyone. The surgeon is apparently calling in on Her later this morning, though we're not supposed to visit the place before 15:00. Perhaps I'll get a phone call.

Afternoon update: having seen the surgeon (who arrived as She was putting the phone down on me to have another upchuck) She reports that the surgical options are one major and one minor (basically) as follows. Major is open the poor girl up, (most definitely not using keyhole techniques this time) and set about what, if any, repair is possible or feasible in the vicinity. There is a lot of cancer in there. Minor is install a stent (a little pipe) and valve that can be drained when She feels sick (which happens when whatever is causing this intermittent blockage springs into unpleasant life). No decision made yet, nor any needed in the immediate future. Much close scrutiny of the latest, and earlier, CT scans will take place first, I gather.

Our little family unit is temporarily incremented by Junior's arrival yesterday evening. 'Spose I'd better let him get his beauty sleep2 before insisting he lets me take him out for a spin, or a skid, or whatever.

Today's driving forecast

To the General hospital, at least. Wonder if I'll be able to squeeze neatly into a parking bay. Refuse to worry about it. On the scale of present worries, parking neatly is running at a very low level. I'll settle for parking safely and unscratched. Besides Junior has promised to find me some parking bays to practise in. How hard can it be? (The Yaris has an impressive turning circle, by the way.) Perhaps I can get myself a Dinky Toy (that dates me!) and study the steering characteristics up close and personal. Dammit, I used to build Meccano model vehicles that steered better than I do.

Recent update: I spent a very long hour or so gently easing in and out of parking bays in a nearly deserted car park in Sholing, almost on the water. Reversing in actually turns out to be easier, and to require less room. I was ending up almost parallel to some lines on some occasions. I only belatedly realised that the marked bays opposite were offset laterally from the ones I was trying to get into. (That made him laugh.) Still, it was almost a doddle compared with the drive back through Bitterne, the Uni dorms, Swaythling and various other extremely busy bits, culminating in the huge roundabout by the airport — all those lanes! All that nasty traffic! It seems I have already acquired some bad habits, too, but remember this is my son talking. Click the pic:

Two Toyotas

Aside... department

It's just struck me how chronologically confusing some of these diary entries must be when I go back into them to add updated information at random points. On the other hand, nobody's complained yet. And I probably wouldn't listen in any case.

Hey! I've just been invited over the road for a steaky supper. I have a bottle of wine of an appropriate hue. I've phoned dear Mama to give her an update, though I don't know that all that much sank in. Junior is (I hope) already safely back in his flat in Battersea, grappling with the other would-be server PC. Christa is comfortable, as far as I can tell over the phone. What more can I do? I'm knackered!

Last update: back from supper (thank you, Shelagh!) I just called Her to wish Her a good night (21:45). She is still bored stiff, and wondered whether I heard all the fireworks from the harbour. All we hear up here is sporadic noise associated with the TV rugby, I suspect.



1  No need. The solid water on the windscreen was a bit of a giveaway this morning.
2  He's done that, and is now busily trying to get successfully getting himself insured via this Interweb thingy to drive both the Toyota Aygo that he'll be taking back to London and (for today, at least) the Toyota Yaris. That way, he'll be able to negotiate any trickier bits when we're "out in the Surrey with the fringe on the top". (He had intended to finish his book first, poor lad; I mildly insisted he re-order his tasks in [my] priority sequence.)