DIARY DATE 14th of August 2006

10 days to go


I knew it was going to be an interesting day! I’d had the hospital appointment lined up for some time, with the possibility of a minor op. So, the good news when I arrived (speedily delivered too, hardly any time to wait and watch the air ambulance take off) that no operation was required, but the charming and smiling doctor told me there was no cure for what ailed me.

In the distance, garments are rent, presaged by the wailing of woman folk. Can it be true The Wizardmarra stricken with an incurable ailment?

To soften the blow two more charming and smiling doctors were brought in, as they examined me further a clearer picture began to emerge.

“You have Dupuytrens Disease.”

The sky darkens with cloud and in a distant tree dark birds take to the air shrieking.

“It’s named after a Frenchmen.”

My mind begins to take this in. There is no cure and I have a DISEASE WITH A NAME. An almost science fiction sounding name (it’s pronounced Jupitrons). But being a French name it’s not so bad.
“You have Dupuytrens? They will ask.
“Oui.” I will nod as if in black and white and gaze into the distance lighting a Gauloises.

“Operating on it will only stimulate the web to grow more…”

Resisting the urge to ask if a spider was in there, I sought further information on Dupuytrens Disease. I was keen to know up until now the most impressive thing I had suffered from was a Syndrome so to be promoted to a disease really was rather good. I would able to walk among my fellows like a schoolboy wearing a plaster that covers his entire face or having one of those casts on a broken arm that needs a stick to keep it upright.

“It will only get worse, if it gets worse in one way we can operate if it gets worse the other way its not as bad, just incurably inoperably worse.”

Dogs howl in the rain soaked streets, and black smoke reaches skyward in supplication. Small children ask their parents “Will there still be stories?”

And I thought it was just a lump on my finger.

“Yes, that’s exactly what it is and it will become a bigger lump.”

A fairly harmless lump.

“Yes, unless it grows into a long lump, in which case it will cause your finger to bend inwards and be useless. Then we can operate!”

Surely, Dupuytrens Lumps would have been a more apt name.

So that’s it! I have a lump (two in fact) on my fingers, it is pretty much a piece of the internal lining of the skin that for reasons unknown starts to go a bit haywire, though painful in it’s initial stages (now) it becomes less so until it gives no pain at all. It will get bigger (on both the fingers it has affected) and if it stays as individual lumps that’s it, if it grows into a cord then it will affect my hand and will need attention.

It is with shame that I say here I spent the rest of the day in a bad mood. Not because I am actually still rather healthy, my disease being dramatic in name only. Altogether different reasons that I’m not going to mention, as they are uninteresting and possibly actionable if I did.

I will apogise to Karen who has withstood the worst of all my moodiness bless her. I am sorry darling, you did not deserve my foul temper and I love you more than anything.

Tomorrow, with that unfailing predictability is another day.

I’ve just noticed the time, tomorrow is actually now. Ah well, later today I’ll be onsite and I’ve got some nice calming things to do. It should start to get really interesting down there this week.

The Wizards Pot

An archive of the life and rantings of The Wizardmarra. The Best Storyteller In The World.

About Alan Whittaker

A storyteller like no other. Weaving traditional storytelling with madcap posing and stand up comedy riffing. Taking the listener from here to there and back again at break neck speed; with panache and a fine sense of the ridiculous.For more information about Alan, read his biography.

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