Yesterday Only Happens Once A Year

Yesterday was my birthday; 32 whole years old. I've only got another year to go until I match Jesus in the staying alive stakes. As usual I don't feel any older, in my mind I'm stuck at 26 anyway, and have been since, well since I was 26. I did realise that 32 was the age my Grandma was when my mum was born, which in 1942 was quite old to be having your only child. But then my mum was 35 when she had me, and in 1978 that was quite old too. It always makes me think that I've got plenty of time to have kids (if I even actually want them - more of that later).

So, I came down to London on Wednesday for a week of comedy and birthday celebrations, although on Wednesday morning it was still looking like I might not be able to come. You see, I was struck down by some weird infection last week. And there's a lesson to be learnt from my misfortune....don't squeeze spots, and if you must; don't keep picking the scab off. Because that's what I did and about two weeks after the initial squeezing the spot (on my neck, which may never have been a spot to begin with but more likely a swollen lymph node), suddenly showed signs of being massively infected. This was swiftly followed by a sore throat, and swollen lymph nodes in my armpits. So I took myself off to the doctors who vaguely diagnosed 'an infection' and possibly 'a virus', and prescribed antibiotics. So far so straight forward. 

Until the next day when lumps started appearing around my eyes. These got bigger over the next 24 hours so on Monday morning I headed back to the doctors where my suspicion that I was allergic to the antibiotics was confirmed. (Over the weekend, with the help of 'the internet' I had diagnosed myself with everything from MRSA to lupus but it was nothing so dramatic). So away I went with a prescription for different antibiotics and hope in my heart. 

But by Monday night I had bright red, very painful lumps all over my arms and legs, I could barely open my eyes due to the swelling and despite being under the duvet wearing a massive woolly cardigan and being hot to touch, I couldn't stop shivering. It was horrible. Mostly I really like living alone but it's times like this (and my recent fainting incident) that I really wish there was someone else there. I was on the verge of taking myself off to hospital but I managed to fall asleep and when I woke up a few hours later the fever seemed to have broken. 

Tuesday was a day of pain and feeling sorry for myself - well so would you if you looked like this (--->) and most of your skin hurt to touch (oh yeah, I had all my hair cut off on Saturday - it looks a mess here but I love it). On Tuesday night I had the idea of using frozen peas on my eyes to reduce the swelling a bit which seemed to help but by Wednesday morning I was still looking a mess, the lumps on my arms and legs were as bad as ever and the infected spot on my neck still didn't seemed to have healed up completely. So I was in a bit of a quandary. It didn't really matter where I was ill, but I didn't want to be away from home if I was going to need to see the doctor again. So I called my friendly GP (who must have been getting a bit pissed off with me by now) who advised that the arm/leg lumps were probably related to the infection and/or mysterious 'virus' and I should just keep taking the antibiotics and I'd be fine. And do you know what, vague as his diagnosis was, he was right. By Thursday my neck had healed and my eyes were pretty much back to normal, and the arm/leg lumps were improving, and now, on Saturday they are almost gone completely. My immune system, it seems has finally won the battle.


Anyway, I was telling you about my birthday... yesterday I met up with my friend Carrie, who I have known since I was 16 and was best friends with through Sixth Form and university. I would still count her among my close friends, despite the fact that I hadn't seen her for about 3 years. I actually knew Carrie's dad before I knew her, he was my history teacher at school and I would say he is one of the teachers that inspired me to go into teaching myself. So as we know I come to London quite a lot and since Carrie now lives here too I decided it was about time to make the effort to see her. As I knew would be the case, despite not having seen each other for years we were immediately chatting away as if it had only been last week. 

I was a little be worried that it would be different this time...because you see Carrie is now a grown-up. She got a great graduate job as a management consultant straight out of university while I was messing about living in tents in France, she got married 5 or 6 years ago (to the boy she had been going out with since she was 18 - he's a corporate lawyer), and they now live in fancy Islington with their 15 month old son and another baby on the way. To be honest, you couldn't get much further from my life! But I needn't have worried. Apart from it being a bit odd seeing 'Carrie the mum', she was just the same and we had lots to catch up on. 


After having lunch at Carrie's flat we took Joseph out to the park where we met up with her 'mummy friends' as she called them. There were 4 young mums (and a nanny) who all had kids of the same age....and it was pretty bloody scary. I've mentioned before in this blog how I always assumed that I'd have children but if I'm ever around babies or toddlers it just makes me think that I just don't feel very maternal. Maybe that will change if I meet someone I want to have children with but at the moment it just doesn't feel very likely. Despite that (and having to have a conversation with one of the mums while she breast fed her walking, talking toddler child which was slightly uncomfortable - for me at least, she was fine about it) I had a lovely afternoon, I hope it's not as long until I get to see Carrie again.


I had more fun planned for the evening; I headed off to Camden to meet up with some of my new-fangled comedy pals for some dinner and to see a band they had recommended; The Popsocks. I had heard some of their stuff on the internets so I was looking forward to seeing them. The lead singer is writer/performer/director/comedian Stefan Golaszewski. I had previously only seen Stefan in the BBC 4 comedy sketch show Cowards, along with Tim Key, Tom Basden and Lloyd Woolf. Along with band mates Mike Toller, Guy Morgan and Jon Cook, The Popsocks play 'love songs you can dance to'. Their brand of bouncy pop music made for ideal birthday accompaniment and I even got a free CD. I'll definitely be seeing them again if I get the chance. In the meantime, they kindly send subscribers to their mailing list a link to a new song every week. You should visit their website and sign up the you can share the fun too.


So that was that, a lovely birthday and another year older. Today I did not much of anything at all in preparation for a busy few comedy filled days ahead. I shall endeavour to tell you all about it.