Dopey, Mopey and Muddley

I had my minor operation last Thursday – a hysteroscopy (=camera up fanny) and biopsy.  Fun – not.  Apparently everything looked good, normal and healthy inside – so the biopsy result will take about two months to process because there was no need to prioritise it.  I’m not complaining – I’m very glad that it wasn’t a case of “Oh my God, are you seeing what I’m seeing?  That looks like a textbook malign heebeegeeby - quick, get this woman’s samples to the lab, stat!”  But a two month wait for confirmation of the visual all-clear is a bit trying.  And in the meantime I have to get over having had a general anaesthetic.

I’m one of those people who react badly to anaesthesia.  I don’t mean seriously medically badly – I don’t get hypoxic or have blackouts or develop DVT, thank goodness.  I just need to sleep for several days, and when I am awake I am dazed and monosyllabic, and am baffled by simple tasks (like multiplication).  For the first couple of days, even trying to have a coherent conversation defeats me.  When I came back to work yesterday I still felt as though my brain were full of feathers; thinking through problems and sorting out work priorities was ghastly. If I had not known how very under par I was, it would have been terrifying.  I’m in a new job, and yesterday it looked as though I would never have a hope of getting my head around it.  Today I am a bit better.  I only feel like a convalescent, not a dementia victim, and consequently the job looks manageable again.

A few years ago I elected to have my wisdom teeth out under sedation rather than have an anaesthetic.  It’s a pretty scary procedure – I had no idea how much crashing around, wrenching and thumping at the patient’s face would be involved (no wonder one is bruised to bejayzus afterwards) – but compared to the semi-comatose state I’m in now, anything is preferable. 

Does anyone else have this problem?  Websites like NHS Direct and BUPA barely give it a mention.  Yet I can’t believe I’m that unusual.  To sum up, at present I am:

Sleepy - all the time

Depressed and mope-ish

Muddle-headed and easily confused

Weepy

And my sense of balance is shot to pieces.

Does that catalogue of symptoms ring any bells with anyone? 

I cannot wait to feel normal again.  We just don’t think about what a blessing normality is, until suddenly it is taken away!

A sad departure...

As a self-confessed balletomane, I suppose I have to say something about last week’s startling news,  Sergei Polunin’s exit from the Royal Ballet – and, judging by the latest story in the Daily Telegraph, even possibly from dancing altogether (the Telegraph isn’t my regular news source, incidentally! - far too centre-right for me, but their arts coverage is usually good). 

I have to admit I am not as overwhelmed by the loss of Mr Polunin as some.  Yes, he is a very showy technician.  Cor blimey, what a jump.  Cor BLIMEY, what entrechats...  And yes, he has a splendidly haughty, princely stage presence, and he is fantastically good-looking (provided you like cheekbones).  But I’m afraid I had rather got him labelled in my mind as not-fully-formed, because for my money he didn’t always seem terribly engaged dramatically.  There are some more disengaged chaps around, but there are also chaps at the RB I’d much rather see. 

When I saw a little while ago that it was going to be Mr Polunin dancing in “Marguerite and Armand” with Tamara Rojo I was a bit worried.  Ms Rojo is not only a phenomenal technician, she also acts with every breath in her body, and it is a real pain when one sees her paired with a bloke who looks blankly at her and doesn’t engage at all.  I can think of one young man, who shall remain nameless, going through the motions with perfect, bland accomplishment while at his side Ms Rojo emitted passion down to her fingernails.  

Luckily in “Marguerite and Armand” Mr Polunin came out of his shell and gave a tremendous performance, totally spot-on dramatically as well as technically.  For the first time I could really see why some of the papers had been acclaiming him as the next Really Huge Big Star.   He had a real chemistry with Ms Rojo and the performance was very, very good.  But Ms Rojo was the real star, even then. 

I know I’m not an expert and I’ve obviously been missing some extra fillip of terrificness in those jumps, entrechats etc.  But my main feeling is more one of sadness for Mr Polunin.  It’s such a waste, that a talented young man who could have been a Big Star (even if he wasn’t really one yet) has apparently flipped slightly and chucked in one of the very top jobs in his profession.  It seems a real shame, and no-one should have to be so stressed by their work that they reach that stage.  Who knows what went on behind the scenes? – certainly not me.  But I hope he gets his life sorted out.  If he truly doesn’t want to go on in the dance world, I hope he finds something else to do, something to which he is genuinely committed.  As it is, it just looks as though Mr Polunin was the “short-twitch muscle” equivalent of Ed no.1; not so much blessed as blessed-and-cursed by his enormous potential.

And in the meantime while we wait to see what the poor lad decides to do next, at least in the world of ballet everyone is used to sudden cast changes and to stepping in at short notice to fill a gap.  Anyone who had booked to see Mr Polunin as Oberon in Ashton’s “The Dream”, opening tonight, will get Steven McRae instead, and one can hardly feel short-changed by that (I had booked to see Mr McRae anyway, but then for my money he already is a Star – I’d pay good money to watch him stand at the side of the stage and look thoughtful).

Not much to report on my own account at the moment.  My head cold is coming out (cue loud sneeze) and my first day in the new job has gone quietly.  Now I’m off home to eat curry and try to finish Fairy Story number 2.  All the main characters are now under enchantments of one kind or another, and I have a big confrontation scene to write as they face off with the twin sorcerers who are responsible.  Eee, should be fun!

Not a good place...

I officially start my new role tomorrow; and I've got a stinking head cold.  I feel grotty.  I know it's only a cold, nothing serious.  But I am stuffy-nosed and sore-throated, and terribly tired, and the front of my face aches.  Miserable condition; and not the way one wants to be when about to start a new job. 

I try to console myself, in my lunch break, with planning my May holiday.  I haven't yet booked any time off, but I can still day dream about going back to Crete, or back to Paxos, or that peculiar place on the north coast of Lesvos where there was nothing but a huge black sand beach and a few tavernas...   Outside the office window now a fine white sleet is drifting on the wind, and the thought of the sunlit mountains and shining seas of Hellas comforts me as I resign myself to February in England. 

News

Yesterday I got offered a new job.  Our department is being restructured slightly and everything has been a bit hassled and chaotic for the last few months while this was sorted-out and negotiated.  There were some glitches at an HR level, which needless to say did not speed things up, and all in all it's been an unpleasantly stressful patch.  But I think everything is now ironed out, and I get a new role out of it.

From February the first I will be working in what's known as Travel Trade, i.e. running group bookings.  It's an area I've covered some aspects of, and I'm looking forward to getting my teeth into it properly.  The job carries a slightly better salary and slightly more responsibility, too, which is pleasing.

I just wish the process of getting to this hadn't been a tad protracted.  I am more tired than I would like, going into a new job.  It would be so much better to be full of energy and as keen as mustard...

Mind you, I'm always tired in January.  I think perhaps I have a mild form of SAD, for I always spend a couple of months every winter simply longing for spring.  As it is I would really love to have a week off in February or March, but I feel I can't really since I'll be learning the new role.  Maybe by April I can take a break; I'm owed seven days of annual leave and in fact there are relatively few gaps where I can use it up....

There are masses of snowdrops out at Kew at the moment, as well as a sprinkling of crocuses and wonderful Schiapparelli-pink Cyclamen coum.  Today was cold but bright, but it has clouded over this evening and is now grey and dank-looking.  well, it is still winter, after all.  But the cyclamen are beautiful...