While I was staying with the D. B. my eating was not of the healthiest (hard when you’re staying as a guest, and harder still when you go out for dinner twice on the strength of the D. B not only having graduated with Distinction, but having won the faculty prize for the best project! Yes, I’m a little bit proud of him). And it didn’t improve all that much when we came back. I only made it to the gym once that week, and for some reason, was eating chocolate as if it were going out of fashion. The D. B. and I were both, I think, suffering a little from post-holiday blues, and he’s been having a slight depressive episode all week. Alas. I hope he will be feeling better soon – you just have to give it time, and give him lots of support meanwhile.
We did manage to get to his work night out, which was fun, but didn’t help the diet either. When I eventually weighed myself, I was up a pound, and I wouldn’t really have been able to argue if it’d been more. Well, it’s all a learning experience…
This week, I’ve been to the gym twice, although it is now going to be closed for Christmas on all the days I’m not working, and only open until five on the days I am. Which means I won’t get back there until the fifth of January. Of course, it’s perfectly reasonable that the gym staff want some time off too, but I will have to make good use of my free time and Actually, You Know, Go For A Run Or Something. Or I’ll make a very poor showing when I do my 5K in January. I am, however, down a pound again.
My department lunch was on Tuesday, and while I was not going to worry too much about calories, I don’t think I did too badly. It was a nice restaurant, and while I don’t suppose the food was too healthy, the portions were a reasonable size. Oh, and it was yummy. Mmmmm, crème brulée. Very civilised. We were walking back to work afterwards when I was grabbed around the neck by a maniac, otherwise known as my sister, just off the train home from uni. My bro was also skulking off to the side a bit, pretending not to know us. I love my siblings, but perhaps they could choose not to give me a heart attack in front of all my colleagues next time?
But it’s lovely to have her back. In fact, over the course of the next few days, all of my family have been wonderful, and we’ve needed them to be.
The D. B. and I were meant to be meeting after work on Tuesday and going for a drink with some of my colleagues. He’d been working late and I’d been at a work function, but he was going to cycle along and meet me. I came out of work to find him waiting for me, but in a bit of a state. He’d fallen off his bike while turning on slippery, damp cobbles, and landed on his wrist (and his shoulder and hip, although he didn’t realise until later – he’s rather bruised). After a moment, it had felt OK, but as he biked along to meet me it got more and more painful.
Needless to say, we didn’t make it to the pub but went straight home. The D. B. is not a great one for making a fuss (sometime I’ll tell you about the time he had meningitis…) but it was obvious he was in a lot of pain, so Mum and I took him to A&E – a longish trip, as it’s on the other side of town. Rarely have I been more grateful for parents with cars.
If you must injure yourself, Tuesday is the day to pick, because there was hardly anyone in there. He was dealt with pretty quickly (the D. B. didn’t even manage to finish his chapter of Harry Potter while we were waiting), x-rayed and splinted up. The x-ray wasn’t conclusive, so my brother, who is a medical student and had been taking a keen ("Can I see the x-rays? Cool,")and not unsympathetic interest in the whole thing, took him to the fracture clinic yesterday. They decided he probably has a scaphoid fracture, so he’ll be in a plaster cast for about two weeks. Which is a bit of a bummer. It could have been a lot worse, but people? Please don’t you fall on any cobbles.