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[personal profile] freckles_and_doubt
I really am a fundamentally law-abiding creature, which is useful when in hospital for ten days, because it means I have a tendency to trust structure. Hospitals can be confining and intrusive, what with the rules and the bed-baths and the searching personal questions about your bowel movements, but mostly I found it reassuring. If my knee has to Go Evil and mount a flank attack on my lungs, at least I'm in the right place and all the right highly-trained people are around to repel it appropriately. Likewise, even in ICU my feeling was not "aargh could have life-threatening embolism at any moment", but a sort of calmly fatalistic sense that I was being Looked After in an agreeably high-tech and beeping-machine way, and that if a Great White Whale blood clot did actually surface, either they'd deal with it or it couldn't be dealt with. Either way, there didn't seem much point in worrying about it, so I didn't.

I'm not sure if this makes me ridiculously unimaginative, ridiculously well-adjusted, or inherently fatalist, but there it is. I darkly suspect that me being in hospital was actually harder, emotionally speaking, on my family and friends than it was on me.

As an enjoyable offshoot of this "takes pleasure from structure" thing, I spent most of the morning happily constructing the Lego version of Hagrid's hut, which was the EL's birthday present to me, and seems to be ideally suited to my current state of convalescent brain-deadness. This process causes my mother to laugh at me a lot and make comments about her "sweet little daughter" playing with her toys, but once again, this fails to penetrate my calm. I like Lego, and the jig-saw-like process of construction has perfectly obvious and abstract satisfactions about which I decline to be embarassed in any way whatsoever. Besides, I can fire back with a beautifully accurate guilt trip about never having had Lego as a child owing to sanctions and the family state of brokeness, so we're about even.

Being at home again is, for some reason, giving me really odd dreams - or possibly it's the result of the more than usually insane amount of reading I've been doing (seven Patricia McKillips in a row has to be good for something). Saturday night: wandering around a medieval village festival in the snow, being a young blonde thing having an affair with JRR Tolkien, and listening to his sadness about his distant Elven wife. Last night: being, for some reason, a beauty contestant, attending complicated gala dinners in giant shopping malls. Mostly, I think, this one was about being able to move.

Obligatory Reverse Inside-Out Australia Blog photograph: I found Sydney, while rather lovely in its waterfront nature and beautiful skies, incredibly glitzy and touristy and ultimately somewhat heartless. I was in quite a lot of pain by the end of the trip and didn't do a lot of sightseeing, but there was a Wildlife World park thingy quite close to the hotel, so I managed to pack koalas and kangaroos and wallabies and duck-billed platypi, oh my, into a fairly quick limp around. Not in any way an authentic experience, I really wish I could have gone out into the country, but still rather fun. This shot, with the koalas sleeping improbably and uncomfortably up bits of stick right against the cityscape, exemplifies the experience for me.
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