And so, from one minor operation under a general anaesthetic to, 48 hours later, a diagnosis of kidney failure. Swimming, cycling and playing tennis on Tuesday, followed by fourteen hours of vomiting, a re-admission to hospital, and talks of dialysis within the next 12 hours depending on further blood tests and the effectiveness, or otherwise, of some massive doses of steroids and antibiotics. No clues as to what caused it, but some very admirable staff on the High Care Renal Ward researching their backsides off in an effort to solve it.
I’ve been thinking about the differences between blogging (clearly more room for elaboration and so on) and other forms of social cyber communication in light of my husband being so poorly. Facebook and texting are speedy ways of getting in contact and notifying a quantity of people, but are strange mediums also. I was reading an article recently about how people read certain tweets or see facebook photos or a status update, and become eaten up with envy over what they perceive to be someone else’s ‘perfect’ life. Which strikes me as slightly bonkers… and a tad daft and naive. No-one would post a photo or status of only the miserable events in their lives, and what on earth could be wrong in posting something happy… yet at the same time, the irony is that the one person declaring your holiday/status/activity/achievement/food and so on to be ‘perfect’, is the envious person reading it. A backhanded compliment. After all, I’ve never seen a friend post anything and declare it to be perfection. They simply post it, they don’t comment on its quality. Hardly anyone on the planet could be in the position of believing their life or anything they do to be ‘perfect’, but because they can share it cyberly, some dimwits with IQs that are the size of an ant’s clitoris (no idea if they have them; but then some men forget women do) seem to think that by posting happiness or success you must, by default, be automatically smug about it.
Hmm. So, conversely, I wonder what the effect is when you are in the sad and stressful position of posting a low/sad/non-cheery status. Do the ant’s clitoral dimwits smile gleefully and finally become happy themselves in joyous celebration that all is not right with everyone’s world? Or do they take a little time to think about their actions and blinkered little worldview, and consider an expansion of their shrivelled IQs above the level of tiny insect (is an ant an insect?) genitalia size-comparions…I’ve a sad suspicion it may just be the former.
On a brighter note, I am off to visit my beautiful man and to continue hoping against hope that much becomes right with his and our world very soon. Because I miss it, and him.