14 October 2012
Hogmany in Scotland to the non-habitant would appear to be a fun-filled experience. Don't get me wrong it can be great fun but more often than not I’m afraid to say it doesn’t live up to the hype. The pressure to have a good time is huge, and unfortunately it’s often the formula for failure. I started thinking about what the night ahead would hold for us now our plans were scuppered. Could we possibly stay at home on Hogmany? We’d never tried that one. Consideration time over (0.04 seconds), speed-dialled Luisa and Fletch. Predictably, their crackly answer-machine message kicked in, this being the world’s worst message recorded since time began. ‘Hi, there’s no person in right now, leave a message after the beep. See yaaa’ loud high pitched tones ensued, the kind that make dogs cry, before the long constant foghorn tone kicked in.
“Hi Luisa, its Faith pick up, it’s urgent..Fletch are you there? Luisa? It’s about tonight’s dinner party”
“HELLO, Faith I’m here” it was an out of breath Luisa.
Luisa Bailey, 32 years, fondly known in our circle of friends as ‘Dr Luisa’, with this in mind, I should really have anticipated her reaction. Verbal diarrhoea ensued.
BLOODYHELLMARIA/SHIT/YOU’RE/JOKING/!!!!/OH/MY/GOD/!!!!/I’D/BETTER/GIVE/LACEY/A/PHONE/TO/MAKE/SURE/HE’S/OKAY/BLOODY/HELL/I’D/BETTER/GET/ROUND/THE/HOSPITAL/TO/MAKE/SURE/HE’S/NOT/BEEN/PRESCRIBED/SOMETHING/WELL/DODGY.
‘You know what they’re like down at that hospital Faith, come on you can’t deny it, I mean the so called experts don’t know the long term damage they do to people.’ This was an area that was familiar to me. I was used to having conversations like this with Luisa, trying to support her through her initial panic whenever someone was unwell. Her Italian/Scottish heritage had predicted it, her lack of confidence in the medical world was born even before she was. ‘Bloody hell, okay, it’ll be okay, I’ll get it sorted just wait a minute ‘til I get in’, her heels scurrying across the wooden floorboards of her kitchen before clattering against the wall as she kicked them off. I knew where she was headed, you see, in the corner of her kitchen, tucked under the stairs, is a small cupboard that’s been converted into Luisa’s office. Whilst small and compact her ‘office’ is very well organized, IKEA brackets and shelves embracing a colour coded eclectic mix of medical reference books for the laymen and new age homeopath. Forget NHS Direct, we’re talking Scotland’s very own nerve centre for all medical queries. If you have an ailment Luisa will sit you down and give you a full medical before mixing you up a potion to take or oils to rub in.
‘Okay, he possibly has some broken bones if he’s fallen from a ladder. There may or may not be internal bleeding and a MRI scan will identify if this is the case. However, there are risks associated with having an MRI scan such as....’ I could hear her thumbs on red alert flicking through the pages of one of her reference books. Luisa can flick through pages with similar expertise that bank cashiers’ handle wads of notes. ‘I hope it’s not his spleen, they’re terrible things to try and heal, oh God, I’d better give Lacey a call, on second thoughts I’m going down there, do you know what ward he’s in Faith?’ she said breathlessly. ‘Listen darling, I don’t think they know what’s wrong with Gordon yet’ I said sympathetically. Thankfully Fletch had heard Luisa’s panic and picked up the extension in their bedroom where he’d been having an afternoon siesta in preparation for a long night ahead. ‘Luisa, for goodness sake, calm down, you’re going to have a heart attack’ he said assertively.
Chapter Four • Opuss № I