I came up with a new word to describe how Lady M interacts with the world: datavore. If there’s information, she has to have it – from reading the labels of parcels in the foyer, and peering over shoulders at social media or messages, she just can’t help herself.
Show her a message, and without thinking she scrolls up to see what came before. When challenged she says she’s looking for context, or “just in case it’s important”
As someone who has already filtered and positioned a piece of information for consumption, or who has put the start of the relevant information or story front and centre, it therefore never fails to make me clench my teeth.
It isn’t a worry that anything compromising may be seen, it’s what my brain identifies as disregarding the effort made to consciously present information – like someone wanting to see the unpublished cards in your PowerPoint presentation while you’re in the middle of starting your presentation.
I know she can’t help it, and that her entire being is dedicated to gathering information at all times like a sponge – but I may have to start keeping an old copy of Private Eye rolled up and to hand to lovingly boop her on the nose next time it appears at my shoulder…
Either that or arrange to have something truly strange on my screen the next time she looks
Lady M is back in the country, having lightly terrorised her European counterparts, traumatised random gawkers who tried ogling her, and bemused fellow travellers by snoring through takeoff on the way home.
Lady M always looks nonplussed when people say that she is scary. I’ve never seen it myself, but I’ve had enough people confess that they’re lightly terrified of her to presume it’s some combination of the North East accent and her tenacious attitude.
Lady M in full sail is a masterclass in watching someone go from point A to point C without being concerned that point B makes it not a straight line journey. It might be a zigzag for most people, but not Lady M. Nine time out of ten, reality shuffles a bit to accommodate this, and the times it doesn’t is where I step in.
In the words of Nanny Ogg shes’ “an old softie really”
Any similarity between Lady M and Greebo is purely coincidental.
I got home today after an over-enthusiastic 40 minute walk back from work in the blazing sun to find a full mailbox and a stack of deliveries outside our door, all addressed to Lady M.
I may have quietly made some uncharitable noises while carting them all indoors before stripping off for a shower, even though they weren’t particularly heavy.
When Lady M got home, and we’d compared stories of wilting in the heat, and showered, she started opening them to find that they were rewards from an online conference that she had attended a while back – so there were some nice little things like new pillows, a favourite fragrance, some sunglasses, things like that.
All on all, a nice surprise at the end of a day of feeling grimy. Oh, and our XBox had finally given up the ghost in playing physical discs – not bad for a Day One XBox – so we managed to find a second hand replacement in an XBox One X. Favoured games are now being reinstalled…
This is how pretty much how most of the conversations with colleagues have started this week. It’s lovely to hear the concern both from those who know her from our conversations and from those who know her from our debauched pub meet-ups.
It has been my great pleasure to be able to say that she is doing very well, and healing quickly. More importantly her grin and laugh are back. I’ve missed those, and it’s wonderful to have the old Lady M back.
I was back to work for the first time in three weeks today, at least for the afternoon anyway, and it was nice to be able to catch up with people and feel a little more grounded back in reality.
Most of the conversations were of course surrounding how well Lady M is recuperating, and its been lovely to be able to report the total rejuvenation and new lease of life she has. Her own interactions with her work place have had her smiling about her job and pretty much everything for the first time in years.
And an added cherry on top is that I’m now booked in for my first covid vaccine jab on Monday next week. So all’s well that ends well today.
Somehow it has already been a week since Lady M had her surgery, and I’m pleased to say she is generally recovering well. She still keeps wanting to dive back to work, which tells you everything you need to know about how unwell and uncomfortable she was that being immediately post major surgery she was feeling well enough in comparison to think all was okay.
A slow pace has been enforced, marked by cups of tea and sessions playing on the xbox. There has even been embroidering on a cosplay on one slow evening. The smile is back, the giggle is back, occasionally there is a wince.
Lady M is home, ensconced on the sofa with an xbox controller in hand, fed and watered, meds all taken, and a big smile on her face. On both of our faces to be fair.
I have made it very clear, with support from her boss, that she is to have a few days off to recover from what is categorically major surgeries rather than rely on her insanely high pain tolerances. There was a show of reluctance and then relief.
She looks and sounds healthy, and from reading the surgical notes is bouncing back from a complex and involved series of procedures with a velocity that would not be unexpected in a rubber ball.
This is an option for training that has just cropped up at work, and it dovetails so neatly in to how I and my colleagues work with our staff that I just had to rattle a few cages to make it happen.
And the argument was won, so in March at some point we’ll get accredited training to be able to act as a vital element of support for our staff among the stresses that just keep coming.
Hopefully that’ll be after I return to work from looking after Lady M as she recovers from surgery. I am fully expecting to be spending a lot of time over the next few weeks telling her to step away from the laptop. She’s the first to admit she’s a lousy patient, but she’ll still need to be loving taken back to the sofa and an xbox controller put back in her hands while I make another mug of black tea.
It’s all getting a bit real now. I’m due to take Lady M in to London later for a pre-op meeting with her surgeons ahead of this weekend – and the stress is starting to bite.
There’s a small part where this is due to driving somewhere I’ve not been before, but mostly all the worries bubbling up, even though generally we’ve been able to stamp on them over the last couple of weeks. Anything that does go wrong, we can’t do anything about anyway, at least in preparation. Anything that might go wrong, we’ll deal with if we have to when we know what it is.
That’s the healthy way to approach things, but there’s still that traitorous voice in the gut, because of course there is. An hour, and we’ll be on our way.