Past your sell by date!

Not a thing that we like to think of but it hits us all at some stage in life.

Rather than being a piece of supermarket meat which has a sell by date, a use by date or a best before date we are all like pieces of fruit and veg, you look at us every day in the fridge and we look shiny and perfect but you never notice the day when the shine is gone and things start to deteriorate until that little piece of grey mould just gets us.

You look at that punnet of strawberrys, and wonder what things must be like....a bunch of little red pipped and pithy voices trapped in a cellophane wrapper all hoping that they are not going to be the first to go. Sitting in fear as the fridge door is closed and the light goes off. Listening to frightened whispers in the dark and a calm voice of reassurance coming from somewhere at the side from a carton with a best before that has months to run. Trying to keep the spirits up of the frightened and lonely piece of fruit by your side in the cold and dark, unable to reach out and give reassurance.

Then in the long dark night, there is the winter of silence and you realise that the fruit next to you is no longer making a noise. Your whispers are not yielding a response and you fear the worst until you hear the noise of the footsteps and the blinding light dazzles you and when your eyes clear you focus on the mouldy grey spores that are close to you, not touching but so close that you are terrified to move.

We all fear being that piece of fruit. The one that goes mouldy before the others. Nobody could predict it, especially since they looked ok yesterday.

With kidney stones last year and a hernia this year, the ability to tie a rear fastening hospital gown is no longer a mystery. (Why lord are hospital gowns so difficult to tie up? Why are things not simple and at the front....where most normal approaches to vital organs need to come from. Should you need an operation which needs a southern lay approach from the rear then put the damned thing on backwards!) I think that hospital gowns are just another way of reminding us of survival of the fittest. A thousand years ago when the hospital gown was invented it was natures way of saying that if you could not manage to tie it up with loops behind you, that you probably did not deserve to live and so would be sent out into the wilderness in all your bare arsed glory to be eaten by wild bears.

Four weeks post surgery I am still amazed as to what the doctors have done. Two little holes in the left of my stomach to fix a problem in my belly button.

I will admit, that when my "isn't it just because I am a middle aged fat boy" belly button turned to an outy, I did spend a quiet moment on my own pampering my rediscovered inny with some moisturising cream and a cotton bud. The return of a long lost friend.

Still not a hundred percent but I will start a bit of light exercise and see how we go from there.

Which reminds me, I must go down to the fridge and get some fruit!

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