from M. K.
to maketodayhistory@gmail.com,
date Wed, May 7, 2008 at 10:50 PM
mailed-by hotmail.com

hide details 10:50 PM (7 hours ago)


Reply


Well, this morning, May 6th, 2008, as soon as I opened my eyes I said what I always say first thing on mornings: "When morning gilds the skies, my heart awakening cries, May Jesus Christ Be Praised". After that, I went on the computer to check my e-mail. I'm a computer freak. Well, I'm retired, so I might as well be a computer freak. Actually, its not quite true to say I am retired - retired from a paid job, yes, but definitely not retired from writing, which is what I do. I am an author, with three published books, and a fourth one in the pipeline. A computer freak I may be, but at least I don't inundate friends' e-mail Inboxes with a load of junk mail and links to websites. I had to actually change my e-mail address to get away from one of those control freaks who invade your Inbox with junk. I call him a control freak because I realise that when he sends links to websites, he is really informing me that I haven't the intelligence to find these websites myself. Well, I took care of him.

After checking e-mail and reading newspapers online, I showered, had breakfast, which consisted of fruit, cereal, soft boiled egg and a slice of a health cob loaf. Then I dressed appropriately to go to one of the medical clinics in Belleville to have a blood test, chest X-ray and ECG, just so that the doctors/surgeon/anaesthetist can be sure that I won't kick the bucket (oh, yeah? Wish I could be as sure as they) when I have my gall bladder removed in a few days time. Last year I tried doing a gall bladder flush, but apparently it didn't budge the two huge gall stones that have lodged themselves in the gall bladder. Lord, if it ain't one thing its another.

Next item on the Agenda - traffic jams. No matter how you try to avoid them nowadays in Barbados, you simply cannot. Even if you go a distance out of your way to reach your final destination, you still get bogged down. How nice for your poor lungs, first thing on a morning to be inhaling all that carbon monoxide, some of which, from huge articulated trucks (and minibuses) is thick and black. And when will something be done about that? When will a law be passed to control emissions? Well, just like everything else in Barbados - NEVER. Isn't it amazing how politicians pompasett in front of microphones and stupid listeners, and pontificate about how they're going to do this, that and the other, and it's all just a bunch of hot air. No action is ever taken.

However, to look on the bright side, you can still enjoy what beauty there is left in the island, by taking a drive down the East Coast, and you can still find a few quiet spots here and there in St. Andrew, St. Joseph and St. Thomas. St. Lucy - well, poor St. Lucy, it has never had much in the way of beauty going for it. Mind you, there are cliffs - like out by the Animal Flower Cave (I wonder if in years to come there will be a huge condo development out there, like everywhere else) - and a few unspoilt lonely spots. But, hey! How much longer will we be able to drive around for pleasure, with the price of gasoline escalating daily?

While sitting on an uncomfortable cushioned bench affair in the Waiting Room before having the ECG, I start to reminisce, and it isn't pleasant what I'm reminiscing about. I'm remembering the time, some thirty years back, when I recovered on the operating table at the Queen Elizabeth Hospital, BEFORE THE SURGEON HAD FINISHED! True, true, true. Problem was, I could not move - not my hands, not my feet, I couldn't even open my eyes, which would have alerted them. I was a goner. Doomed. I silently recited the 23rd Psalm. I would have thought their instruments would have alerted them to my condition, but apparently not. Two weeks later, after I had fully recovered, I marched into the anaesthetist's office on the top floor of QEH and demanded to know what had gone wrong. He was a Korean (oh, God our help in ages past) and he grinned at me like a Cheshire cat. "Nothing went wrong", he said. NOTHING? The anaesthetic had had in, as one of the ingredients, a muscle relaxant, which rendered my muscles totally useless. Ever heard of curare? The stuff that Amazonian Indians use with their blow arrows to paralyze animals in the jungle? Well, the muscle relaxant I had been given was a refined form of curare. So much for that.

I'm in the Cardiologist's office now, relating that experience to him and stating that I hope it won't happen again. Oh, no, he assures me, technology has advanced tremendously since then. (So, excuse me, what about the movie, "Awake", that apparently tells a similar tale?). Ho hum. I drive home via the East Coast Road and stop in at a rum shop to drink a Banks. Might as well enjoy life, while I'm still in it. CIAO!