The men in my life. And other things.



Is stressed and not a great deal of fun at the moment. He is off at the MIFF with his bro, watching a film. I have been giving him lots of cuddles lately. He is bringing me home a freddo frog. Bless him.

Dr. Mike.

My boss. His daughter (about my age and recently hurt in a car accident) rang him up during the ward round today. And he was so lovely to her. So, so lovely. It made my heart melt. It makes me realise the special relationship that fathers have with their daughters. And what I missed out on. I think about it very rarely, but when I think about it, I get sad. And then I think about all the nice men in my life and I feel better.

Prof. Michael

Said I was a good “MRI jockey” (I pull up the radiology films during the memory clinic meetings) and a good clinician. I was very happy about that. Because Prof. Michael is somebody I look up to.

Dr. Phillip.

No, not Dr. Phil. He is just so nice. Nice almost to the point of being irritating. Almost.

Mr. Kevin.

My teacher in high school. Taught me around the time my Dad died (year 9) then again in years 11 and 12. Another great bloke. Almost like a father figure and there at the time I really needed one. I really owe a lot of my success at high school to him. I have stayed in contact with him and we chat on occasion. I shot him off a little email today.


Was a fellow in my year of uni who works at the hospital I do. I didn’t know him very well, but we chat. We were both getting coffee at the same time so we sat together and had a yap. Another good bloke.


In other news….

  • Did pilates today.
  • Having more dental work on friday 😦
  • I think I might get a stylist to do a “wardrobe audit” for me. It is the same old case of too many clothes and not a thing to wear. And I always wonder whether they look good, with my curvy frame. A nice, well suited outfit does absolute wonders for my body confidence.
  • Did step on sunday. May well go tomorrow. Dunno.

3 responses »

  1. I haven’t seen my father since I was 21, it’s complicated but I like to remember the good times when I was little, like when he taught me to read and always smelled of sawdust and wore overalls. When I witness something like you did I just want to run away some where with my broken heart and have a little cry.

    I totally empathise.

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