If there was a medal for resembling a ripe tomato, or a parboiled crayfish, I’d win it. Every. Single. Time. As I sit typing this post, more than 24 hours after being in the sun, the heat is still radiating off my skin. #sunburnisnotforsissies
It’s not the first time this has happened to me, nor is it likely to be the last. I just have the type of complexion that the sun sees and thinks fry, roast, or cremate. The last time I got this sunburned, I was reading my book on the riverbank while Charlie was fishing. My legs got so burned that day, I couldn’t even wear my short pajamas because they hurt. That was four years ago. You’d think that I’d be a little wiser by now, but alas, I clearly am not. I seldom venture out for some natural Vitamin D, but when I do, I make up for it.
I’ve always been aware of #breastcancerawareness but after this, I am a lot more serious about it. Ladies (and gents), please check your boobs for irregularities regularly. If you don’t know how, speak to a local healthcare practitioner.
It was a normal Monday morning shower. Until it wasn’t anymore. There I was, warm water cascading down over me, yet I was ice-cold with an indescribable feeling of dread; I had felt something unusual in my right boob – a hard lump. Could it be cancer? Nah, surely not?! But maybe… no, don’t be stupid! There’s no history of breast cancer in the family…but what about on your biological father’s side? It could be cancer… you’re at that age… These are just a few of the things that milled through my head the entire day. Needless to say, I hardly slept. I kept waking up during the night poking my boob. As sure as the earth rotates on its axis the knob was still there, feeling to me to be about the size of an old one Rand coin.
I am extremely humbled; a psychotherapist friend in Bristol in the UK asked me to be a contributor for her practice’s website. My first article is available to read here. I shall write for her as required, from my own perspective as someone with depression, on various topics. It is a tremendous privilege to be part of a project like this, knowing that my stories may help others who are struggling.
As I was writing the published article, it got me thinking about other aspects of lockdown and how they’ve affected me.
I said to Eliza the other day that I am starting to hoard stuff, and it is scary. I know that hoarding is linked to certain mental illnesses, including depression. To quote a short excerpt from an article I found online: “The term hoarding refers to a psychological disorder whereby an individual refuses to discard things that they own. The person holds a firm belief that they will eventually need these items for some reason.”
A long while ago, I was tasked with making #moodboards for work. I decided to do some research on the Psychology of colours. It turned out to be an incredibly fun, creatively soothing exercise for me. Not being much in the mood to write of late, I lay in the bath wondering what I could do to inspire some blog posts. One of the things my therapist told me is to remember things that invoke good feelings and repeat them. It was then that I decided to write a series of colour-related posts.
I think it fitting to begin with my favourite colour: Purple.
Yesterday was not a good day. I found out that a bottle of expensive wine that I bought almost a year ago disappeared out of the back of my grocery cupboard. The only thing I can think is that it was taken by the once-off cleaning lady and her companion that came to help me spruce up The Cave during level three of the lockdown. I left them alone for maybe a half hour to go and buy them some groceries as part of their agreed remuneration. It’s not so much the wine, but the memory attached to the bottle. I bought it for the girls’ night Eliza, Carmen and I had when we knew that Carmen was leaving to join Ewan in the Land of the Kiwis. We never got around to drinking it, but we made a pact to drink it together – Eliza and I at her house, with Carmen on a video call. To add insult to injury I felt a migraine setting in late afternoon and I felt all round blegh. Anyway, what’s done is done; there’s nothing I can do about it.
It’s Friday and nobody want to listen to gripes anyway, so I am going to share another kitchen adventure with you.
In an attempt to draft a ‘getting to know me better’ post for you, my awesome readers, I put a post on FB which read, ‘if you could ask me any question, what would it be?’ The response wasn’t all that great, so I searched ‘how well do you know me’ images online and found one with thirty questions:
Do you have an addiction?
If I had to admit an addiction, it would be ice-cream. It is one of the few things I can’t resist – even when the weather is colder than the ice-cream is.
Who is/are your best friend(s)?
I have many besties – all for different reasons. It wouldn’t be fair to single out only one or two.
When is your birthday?
Soon – September 22nd.
What is your current mood?
I’m still a bit cheesed off because of Stage 4 loadshedding, but I’m feeling remarkably chipper otherwise.
I will never tire of the roadrunner and Wile E. Coyote.
What is/are your favourite movie(s)?
The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Dirty Dancing, Fatal Attraction, A Few Good Men, An Officer & a Gentleman, Dead Poet’s Society, Shanghai Noon, The Holiday, Two Weeks’ Notice, and Notting Hill.
What is your favourite colour?
What is/are your favourite food(s)?
Homemade: The Toppie’s curry or The Bean’s cottage pie. If I splash out at a restaurant, I prefer a medium-rare steak, sushi, or seafood.
Which of your girlfriends do you trust?
All of them – we wouldn’t have a friendship without trust?
Which of your guy friends do you trust?
See the answer above.
What is/are your favourite TV Show(s)?
Lately I’ve been watching Nurses and Pure Genius and loving them. A few of my all-time favourites though are: Bones, Dr Who, NCIS (all of them), and Suits.
Do you have any insecurities?
Show me someone who doesn’t, and I’ll show you a liar.
What is the last lame joke you heard?
On AlgoaFM Breakfast yesterday, Charlie T told this one:
A woman goes shopping and when she gets back to her car, she sees she locked her keys inside. A man stops, asking if he can help She explains what happens and the man removes his pants, wiping them across the lock on the door and it springs up. She asks how he did it and he replies, ‘these are my khaki pants.´
Who is the last person you hugged?
What is/are your favourite hobby(ies)?
Blogging and more recently, cooking.
Who is the last person you texted?
My colleague, Nikita.
What is a random fact about you?
Before I got my braces, I could fit my fist in my mouth.
What is your current relationship status?
I’m so single that if I was a dollar a stripper’s g-string would spit me out.
Do you have any children?
Of my womb, no; of my heart, many.
Who/What do you miss?
Charlie, Suki, Carmen, and my mind most days.
What is something you hate?
Being woken up when I’m not fully rested. Seriously. Just. Don’t!
What is something you love?
Spending time with my parents and with my friends.
What is something you want?
To travel abroad again.
Who is the last person you called?
If you must know, it was Teresa – and that was on Tuesday night.
Where are you from?
What do you look for in a significant other?
Honesty, integrity, loyalty, trustworthiness, and compassion.
Do you have a morning routine?
Yes. Most mornings it is to try to get to the office on time after working from home for almost five months.
If for nothing else, this lockdown has taught me to utilise my kitchen. I am not going to lie – if The Cave didn’t come with a dishwasher included in the rent, I would be living in PB&J sammies, served on paper plates and drinking my coffee out of a paper cup.