I was due to have my Artist's Date for the week last night: but was stood up!
My Saturday night was spent in A+E with a suspected perforated eardrum. The doctor couldn't be certain what was going on, so I had to be discharged and returned to hospital this morning to have it checked over by a specialist. My ear canal was siphoned and they discovered a pretty nasty infection underneath, but thankfully not a burst drum. Steroids, drops, antibiotics (plus a stern warning not to stick anything bigger than my elbow in my ears in future) and I was soon on my way home — well, via brunch in the West End with M+D which made up for getting off to such a rotten start. I should recover my hearing fully over the course of the next week.
Meantime, I've missed my date, and had been looking forward to it. I probably can't squeeze one in today as I have a concert rehearsal followed by a script recording session for my play (both of which are going to be a challenge with my earache and dull hearing). So I've resolved that if I can't fit it in tonight, I'm going to have two next week instead!
This week has been a week of ups and downs. It has been good for me. I've been reminded that for all my strengths, I'm also human and vulnerable. I need to look after myself and my interests, know who to keep in my inner circle (my Team K supporters) and be mindful of those I need to self-protect myself against right now.
During the short period I spent waiting in A+E last night, I watched people come and go, saw mini-dramas and tragedies played out before me: but I couldn't hear a word of what was being said. I had to rely on my sight, my other senses and my instincts to guess what was happening. I became acutely aware of how disconnected I was from the people before me. I started to piece together their stories in my head, what I imagined was happening. This morning as I wrote my morning pages a huge chunk of unexpected creativity was regurgitated based on these scenarios I had created.
There's a lesson in there about slowing down, being present in the now — remembering to be open, observant and connected to the world around me.