My name’s Hollie Borland. I’m 23-years-old. It’s been 22 days since I last had a drink.
This is karma, I know it. It’s because I said I was going to do Dry January and then kicked off the first day of the new year with Buck’s Fizz (and after the orange juice ran out, just the fizz). And then when I vowed to start on the 2nd, I gave up again on the 3rd because I was at Mum and Dad’s for a roast dinner and it was beef and red wine goes really nicely with beef.
All I can do is take solstice in the fact that I spent the weekend at the Hill residence in Somerset and definitely drank my fair share in booze. I mean the last drink I had was with one of Shirley’s encréable roast dinners (pork avec scratchings) and the beverage of choice was Prosecco. Mother will be proud.
I tell you what, I really would fancy a glass of wine. Maybe Blossom Hill White Zinfandel. I know it’s a cheap and nasty wine but I love it. So much so, I even thanked it in my dissertation acknowledgements. But alas, alcohol thins the blood and as I’m already on blood thinners I don’t fancy taking the risk. My Fizz Fridays have been reduced to watching others neck the booze whilst I tuck into my ginger beer (which by the way, I also believe is the nectar of longevity. This clotting process has actually aged me into a grandma. Next I’ll be reporting how I think cream soda will increase your chances in love or something.)
Can I just point out that I can still have a good time without alcohol. People, and I don’t mean to sound sexist but it’s particularly the men in my life, seem to think that because I can’t drink I don’t want to go anywhere. Which I do, I definitely do. Visit me please! Or I can meet up with you? Just accept that if it’s an evening thing, I may be reduced to a pile of duvet by about 8 o’clock, asking you to tie my hair up because my arm aches. But trust me, it’ll feel like a right old knees up to me!
Can you believe how long I’ve whittled on about alcohol? I was taking the micky but I actually think I might need to visit AA… (Nb. To my employer/any future employers, this is a joke.)
Anyways, I had another hospital appointment today, this time with the vascular consultant. It was just to talk through the operation/what the process is/what the risks are/do I still want it? It was bit scary but I had mum there so it was all okay. I won’t bore you with all of details, besides talking about the risks is always a bit frightening. I have a provisional date for an op, which is 15th March. I’ve also worked out that I can get to Barcelona by train so I’m feeling a lot more positive right now.
I also had my pre-op assessment today. I was actually booked in for this on Friday but the consultant was keen to get this done. He couldn’t find my notes but said hopefully the nurses won’t get too mad about it. I replied: “Well, if they get angry at me I’ll just tell them I have a syndrome.” Thank God he laughed. I’ve still not learned to be politically correct yet…
Anyways, it’s not all about me (although it definitely is), Chloë is going back to France tomorrow, albeit for four days. She’s only popping back in Saturday night as a stop off before heading to Lesvos on Sunday, ironically so we could travel together (ffs). Alas, it is the time to accept that one’s baby sister is no longer her playmate at her beck and call but has to get on with her own life. However, it’s okay, Max is still here. *In a sing-song voice* Oh Max…
Speaking of Max, he’s currently going through the process of applying for a sports scholarship to uni’s in the USA, y’know, as a back up to apply to UK unis as well. Recently he found out that he totally smashed his SATs and already has universities interested in him. I can say this because I know he doesn’t read my blog – to be honest I’m not convinced he can read at all – but he’s actually one of those a-holes at school who is really clever AND good at sport AND really popular AND a nice guy AND actually quite funny AND all of his teachers love him AND so do his mate’s mums (WAAAAAAY). So yeah, I’m pretty proud of him too.
Oh and Oli because he’s putting up with me on a daily basis (Oli: “Hey Hols, how was your day?” Me: “Today I put a wash on but I’m too tired to cook dinner.” Oli: “That sounds interesting.”) He has also taken to playing ‘blue’ songs on his computer at random times of the day. For example, I’ll be in the bedroom and I’ll hear Deeper Shade Of Blue by Steps. Or he’ll be in the kitchen singing I’m blue dabadee dabadi. And the other day, when I was really worried about my hand as it’s still going blue, he played the theme tune to Casualty. But any who, despite visiting me every day in hospital, he still managed to bag employee of the month! Winner, winner chicken dinner.
Has anyone got any news for me? I’m aware that I just keep harping on about my own health and I’m worried it will soon start to be very boring for you, but it really is my life at the moment. I’m back to work but still at home so I’m sort of stuck in my own irritating company. With nothing else to do except listen to my body when it’s tired, I’m actually quite a boring person…