(aka Bike) Part 1760 by Angharad Copyright © 2012 Angharad
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Tuesday arrived, the kids were having a great time on Menorca and sent us the pictures to prove it. I was still having breathing difficulties and I began to wonder if I’d developed asthma. I called Dr Smith and he asked me to drop by at the end of his surgery.
“You’ve still got an infection there, you haven’t been overdoing it, have you?”
“No just gentle exercise when I can stay awake.”
“I’m going to give you some more antibiotics, but I want a sample of sputum and some blood.” I managed to cough up some muck from my rather tender lungs and he took some of my precious red stuff. I cashed the prescription on the way home and took one of the antibiotics as soon as I got home.
David had made us a delicious lunch again and I went off to sleep watching Brad Wiggins do what he does best, and incidentally adding to his lead in the Tour. Catherine was cuddled into me and we were both snoring according to David.
Just walking round the drive seemed to exhaust me and I went to bed for an hour before Simon came home with Sammi, who wanted to tell me that the bank wanted to develop her software idea and were bringing in a consultant to work with her. I was too tired to listen to her and they had quite a problem waking me. I zonked again and Si sent for the doctor.
It looked as if I was having a reaction to his pills and he sent me to hospital–you can guess which one. I ended up being admitted, but by that time I was practically unconscious and they were hitting me with big shots of adrenalin again. Once again the chest physician came to see me and I ended up on drips.
“What’s the prognosis?” I croaked at him.
“You have a chest infection and I suspect a developing pleurisy.”
“So that’s why it hurts to breathe?”
“Quite. Now before I do anything else are you prepared to stay here until we actually get it sorted this time?”
“Do I have a choice?” I croaked.
“Yes, you can go and die somewhere or stay here and get better; but if you stay here, you have to follow instructions...”
I suspect he was still talking, but a wave of tiredness engulfed me and I suppose I fell asleep. I slept on and off for the next day–all of it. So while Cadel Evans was slipping backwards down the CG in the mountains, I was zonked over a drip in Portsmouth and apparently had a temperature of over a hundred. I was aware of the pain in my chest each time I tried to breathe but not much else–except a peculiar dream, which I think I can attribute to either the drugs or the fever.
I was crossing a desert, riding a giant space hopper–yeah one of those orange things popular with kids about the time of Jesus. He was there actually, travelling in the opposite direction, only his hopper was green. You think I’m making this up? Ha, I’ll bet you do. Anyway, after waving to each other we set off in opposite directions. I had no idea where I was going as we don’t have many deserts near Portsmouth, unless you include Gun Wharf Quay, which is primarily categorised as a cultural desert, and I was hopping up sand dunes on this inflated piece of orange plastic. However, it seemed to know, so I followed it–like I had a choice. It was jolly hot, the sun beat down on me and the orange bikini I was wearing didn’t afford much protection from its radiation. I could feel myself turning quite red, which apart from being uncomfortable, clashed like hell with the bikini.
I called to it to stop. “What for?” said the face on the front of it–you remember those inane grins they had.
“I’m hot, tired and burning and need a drink of water.”
“Oh why didn’t you say?” replied the hopper. Immediately, a small occasional table appeared by the side of us and I took the drink it held and gulped it down–it was cold, sweet water. I burped loudly and the hopper gave me a look of disdain.
I took the sun lotion from the table and smeared it liberally all over myself. “Was that Jesus we saw earlier?” I asked my trusty steed.
“I didn’t see him,” it replied, “gold hopper?”
“No, a green one.”
“No that was Paul.”
“Paul who?” I enquired.
“Saint Paul you lot call him, though they reckon if Jesus actually catches up with him there’ll be hell to pay.”
“They both go riding across the desert on space hoppers all the time?”
“Yeah, what of it?”
“Um–nothing,” this was crazy even for one of my dreams.
I finished with the lotion and remounted the orange plastic. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see soon enough.”
It seemed to take forever, and during this period we did pass someone on a gold hopper. I didn’t stop to get his autograph however as my steed was bouncing along at a gallop–is that possible? It seemed to have been then it screeched to a halt outside an ancient building made of marble blocks which glistened in the sunlight.
“You’ll need these,” said the hopper and a long dress like thing appeared and a scarf. “Cover your head, and don’t speak until spoken to. Got it?”
I nodded and pulled the dress over my head, it was something like a cross between a nightshirt and a medieval dress in linen. I drew the scarf around my head and walked through the door which seemed to anticipate me and opened before me.
Inside was a beautiful courtyard with fountains and masses of flowers and shrubs and to one side a large cypress tree. The temperature here was much more pleasant and I followed the doors which seemed to open just before I got to them. I could do with this sort of system at home, especially in the kitchen.
After walking through several ante-chambers, a pair of huge ivory doors opened and I stepped carefully into a huge room which seemed lined with huge windows through which a golden white light shone and I felt a presence of someone or thing which was important–apart from me of course.
I voice seemed to come from nowhere, “We sent for you a week ago, why were you not here?”
I was spoken to so I replied. “I didn’t know, I apologise if it inconvenienced you.”
“Very well, you are forgiven this time.”
“Thank you.”
“You should have recovered from this illness days ago, and you would hav,e had you attended when you were supposed to.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So you should be. We have more important things to do than save the lives of sickly mortals.”
I said nothing.
“So, are you going to do as we wish?”
“Yes.”
“Good, you may leave us.”
“Thank you–oh, if I might ask a question?”
The impression I got was one of this thing tutting at me and I nearly laughed out loud except my chest hurt too much.
“You may but not about the gold hopper?”
“It isn’t.”
“Proceed.”
“Would you please help me to get better as quickly as possible?”
“Better at what?”
“Recover from this infection.”
“Very well–but you won’t enjoy it.”
“If it helps me, I’ll cope.”
“Very well.”
Suddenly my whole body felt on fire, and began to see flames erupting from my arms and legs. Normally I’d have screamed but I didn’t, I took my medicine as they say and when my chest produced plumes of smoke and flames and hurt like crazy, I nearly gave in and voiced my pain. I suppose I must have blacked out because I woke up back in the hospital.
“You had us worried for a bit Lady Cameron.” Dr Carlton was standing by the side of my bed. “Your temperature went up to a hundred and five, then dropped like someone had switched it off.”
The pain in chest had gone and apart from being wringing wet with sweat, I felt fine. “What happened to the space hopper?” I asked.
“Eh?”
Comments
This smacks of an epic coming up!
Perhaps I already bored you with this, can't remember, but this spring I had an awful infection much like the one you are describing. I thought I might die, and was so ill it did not matter. Strangely, I am still here.
Cathy seems to be having a lot of trouble these days. At least she's not having to cope with aliens invading her Broccoli, a nuisance to deal with they are. Maybe one of the Sufi mystics can set her right?
:)
Gwendolyn
Oh Yuk ! Aliens in Broccoli !
Oh Gwendolyn,
Don't remind me of those ! I grew these magnificent vegetables in my garden, and cooked them, and served them up to my two wee daughters and myself (Hubby was away at work as usual). I cut mine open and there were these big fat CATAPILLARS inside, still wriggling. My kids screamed and I was sick over the tablecloth. From that day to this I have been unable to face broccoli, every time I am served them I get an urge to vomit. It has gone on for over 40 years already.
Briar
Very interesting...
As Artie Johnson used to say on Laugh In, Very interesting but crazy.
Much Love,
Valerie R
Patience, young space hopper...
now we have to wait for the next chapter ;)
Martina
Wierd dreams.
One of those surreal dreams that Moses himself could not explain I think.
As Gwen says this sounds like it's building up to something epic.
Another splendid chapter Ang.
Once again, thank you and do take care not to bugger yourself up by writing too frequently. I realise it's a sort of enjoyable therapy for you but one can easily over-indulge a pleasure.
Take care now.
OXOXOX
Bev
I don't like the sound of this
“Recover from this infection.â€
“Very well—but you won’t enjoy it.
What's that blessed cat got up his sleeve this time? Do cats have sleeves?
S.
A mind is a terrible thing to waste on housework. I enjoy ironing, though. Weird or what?
Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1760
I do believe that the Shekinah Glory has BLUE LIGHTED Cathy. but was channeled by Bonzi who got through watching Spaceballs, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spaceballs
May Your Light Forever Shine
Thanks, I really appreciated
Thanks, I really appreciated the chuckle about the moon hoppers (hopping balls) - in the desert.
Suffering from the flu, I think I could go for the burning pain for a few minutes to get rid of it.
I'll get a life when it's proven and substantiated to be better than what I'm currently experiencing.
She forgot to ask what they
She forgot to ask what they wanted her to do.
Ok, that was wierd
Felt like what would happen if you had Monty Python perform a script written by Douglas Adams.
Curiouser and Curiouser..
This was not a dream, regardless of what Cathy may think, and it was not Shekinah that cured her, it was the other wannabe. Remember Billie coming and telling her she was not supposed to be there, and that the Goddess had things for her to do? And now she is being told she was supposed to be there a week ago? Something is rotten in Cathyland.....
This has the makings of an EPIC of gigantic proportions - Good against Evil, Billie on the side of Good, and Cathy apparently agreeing to do the things the Shekinah pretender wants...
Go Cathy! BUT BE VEWY, VEWY QUIET! SHEKINAH IS WOOKING FOR YOU! Obey her, Cathy, not the wannabe.
Don't let someone else talk you out of your dreams. How can we have dreams come true, if we have no dreams?
Katrina Gayle "Stormy" Storm
Good point
Lilith, the malign deity that repeatedly introduced itself as Shekinah, before the real one appeared, kept on demanding Cathy do its bidding lest harm come to others (there's a suspicion it may also have been behind the Drummond family tragedy).
Having said that, the trip to meet the deity was rather unusual - normally Cathy just appears in their presence, without the necessity of travel (never mind travel across deserts on space hoppers with apostolic traffic headed in the opposite direction!) - either there's a point to that or our esteemed author was in a silly mood at the time...
As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!
I figured
she would ask what she was supposed to do. I'm sure she has no clue and will blunder around until it frops on her. She needs to get a clue and stop pi**ing off these gods that have an agenda for her. But then again, I thought she was supposed to answer to a female type goddess.
Back on track?
Aha! Is Cathy back in the Goddess' good graces? Does she realize to what she just committed? Will she be a good girl, or will she revert? Tune in tomorrow, and Wiggo hits the Pyrenees, and Cathy faces her destiny.
Red MacDonald
Bike is Educational
I learn so much reading "Bike". Sometimes it's just a word I'm not familiar with due to Angharad's larger vocabulary (than mine). Sometimes it's a UK product or saying we don't have/use in the US. Sometimes it's just something that I've somehow missed in our culture such as today's giant space hopper. It's a good thing that Google works so well.
I had one, but it had a
I had one, but it had a horse's head, as I recall. Or maybe a giraffe. - you held on through bike style handles stuffed through the ears :)
I'll get a life when it's proven and substantiated to be better than what I'm currently experiencing.
Fascinating...
Quite Fascinating...
Interesting they didn't dose her with prednisone too... That seems to be common around her - when someone gets pleurisy... 60mg/day seems to have done wonders for me... NO, not for pleurisy. That's NOT what ails me. :-)
Thanks for more bike!
Annette
That was just
so Angharad, Offbeat and full of the the sort of humour we have come to expect of her writing, Who else could have come up with the idea of using a Space Hopper as a mode of transport and then tie it in with (hopefully) Cathys recovery from her illness.... Maybe now she can get on with her true purpose in life for the Gods.... What ever that might be...
Kirri