I’ve had a wonderful few days getting rid of some of the stress I’d built up before ‘the documentary’ aired.
Firstly I watched it over at Annies… i knew that way i’d get a hug if i got upset (which i only did once… the point that gets me every time – ‘Jane’s transition is more important than me’)… it also meant i could watch the whole thing and then talk about the whole thing as opposed to what Jane had been wearing…. how she came accross… what she said… and a million other conversation starters the terminally self centred have.
Then a few days over with my cigar smoking bear…. who actually with hindsight didn’t smoke any cigars. We had our usual bedcentric time, full of laughter and conversation…. his own insight on the documentary was that it was a tale of two halves… the NHS and the private route. I’m not sure if that was an intended strand to follow by the director… but it was definitely there.
jane floating down harley street…. a pillar flanked shiny door
michelle…. staring at 1960s utilitarian prefab
I was horrified that our travelling 1st class to Brighton had added to this mimeme…it was clear from the seats- i’d like to clarify at this point that the only way they would let us film on the train was if we were in first class (farcical as it was in the same carriage as standard and consisted of six seats, one mended with yellow sticky tape – the only distinguishing feature being the paper headrests with 1st on).
It is also the case that a fair number of GR surgeries are done at the nuffield (where Jane went), by the same surgeon… and no doubt their patient care is consistent and they tell the visitors of NHS patients where the free hot chocolate machine is.
But I’m digressing….
Dissipated i dissipated some further nervous energy via the art of sleep… the first night, punching a glass off my bedside table and running like a lurcher after dream rabbits…legs going like billy-o. The second night…shouting… various things, but finally as morning came -“SIX BUTTONS”. (answers on a postcard if anyone knows what THAT was all about).
We had a day of sleet and snow and biting winds in York, and a drive in glorious sunshine to Widnes (sometimes the cookie really doesn’t crumble right does it)?
And then home again today in time for a massage…back and Indian head…. my massage lady can never find much muscle tension… maybe I always work my stresses out in my sleep in vigorous and violent ways.
So…life is back to ‘normal’ – onwards and upwards.
ps. thankyou to everyone who has sent, kind, loving, supportive messages over the last few days… much appreciated and the whole experience I think has helped click a few things into place for me. Best of all is that there have been lots of instances fed back to us, of the documentary acting as a catalyst for all sorts of positive moves forward for all manner of people and it started many many sensible conversations… thats heartening…thats what it was for.