In my last blog, I mentioned that my consultant who is Greek and whose use of the English language is sometimes uncertain had urged me to “pack it all in,” which I had interpreted as an encouragement to do as much as possible before weeks’ of isolation. One of my friends has kindly pointed out that he could have meant the complete opposite – i.e. to cease all frenetic activity and take it easy for a while.
I have preferred not to go back and ask him quite what he intended to mean but to interpret it my way and so it’s been a busy week. My report on the suffering of Yazidi women went out on Newsnight on Monday and since then it has been non-stop with more TV and radio appearances on this sad story, another appearance on the Victoria Derbyshire show about my sad story, a trip to the West End to see Anthony Sheer in Death of a Salesman, which was terrific, and an evening in Regent’s Park last night for a picnic and then “Seven Brides for Seven Brothers” at the Open Air Theatre which was very jolly and ideal for helping me momentarily forget what lies ahead.
About half way through, it started raining. Nick kept looking at the weather app on his phone which said that it was not supposed to rain until 5.00 a.m. and refused to believe it until he got so wet that he was forced to go off and buy us all ponchos. No one had excepted rain (because all our apps said it wasn’t) and so the poncho seller, at £4 a go, had a good night. The entire audience was rigged out in his yellow, blue and pink colour range by the second act. We all looked very comical.
Now I must face up to packing and preparing to go in to hospital. My daughter, Sarah, is spending tomorrow, my last day of freedom, with me to help. We plan to begin by having a manicure and pedicure before we start filling crates full of books, laptop, DVDs and CDs. I have decided that the sight of bright red toes sticking out from the bottom of my bed is exactly what I need to cheer me up and all who will be attending to me!