Yo-ho, and its off to hospital I go ....
February 7, 2006 at 11:19 AM
by Ashleigh
My family are what I would call 'working class' people.
My mom worked as a clerk in the Ministry of Roads in Rhodesia before marrying my dad and the she did book-keeping for his business and for the farm he subsequently bought. My dad qualified through an apprenticeship as a panel beater. He started his apprenticeship at age 12 and qualified 7 years later. Mom left school at age 16 after her O-levels. Dad bought our family farm, called Bandira Farm, when I was 2 years old and he lived there until recently when the farm was re-appropriated by the Zimbabwe government.
My grandparents on my Mom's side were educated to about the same level - Opa was a mechanic and Oma worked as a lab assistant at Alaska Mine in Chinhoyi. Alaska Mine was a copper mine and they had their own smelting works too. After the mine closed Opa had various businesses which never seemed to last very long, ranging from construction to running garages etc.
On Dad's side my gran was a seamstress and my grandfather was an electrician who worked with the telegraph service for the post office. I never knew my grandpa - he died rather a grisly death when he replaced a light bulb with the mains still on, aged 50-something, but I lived with Gran from when I was 5 until I was 11.
It was purely an accident of geography, which placed my forebears in colonial Africa, that resulted in me growing up in a large house on a farm and having a private education, rather than living in a council house in Manchester and attending the local comprehensive school!
One other thing they all had in common was a peculiar and somewhat macabre fascination with 'going to the doctor' or 'going to the hospital'. Whenever anyone was ill, there would be frenzied preparation for the visit to the doctor, involving extra baths, hairwashes, smart clothes etc. If one needed to go to the hospital one had to have a new nightdress, bedjacket, new toiletries, perhaps a pair of slippers too.
Discussions were long and varied about who had what operation and when, how long it took, how long it suppurated, whether there were 'complications' (always said in hushed tones). There was righteous indignation at supposed malpractice, tut-tutting about the food and the noisy visitors that the person in the other bed had and much showing off of scars subsequent to the procedure.
Now, its my turn to provide fodder for the family hospitalisation fascination. I'm scheduled to have my gall-bladder removed this Friday. I called my mom this morning and the hushed tones, righteous indignation and all-out curiousity were already in full-play. As for me, I'm off to go buy myself a nightie and a bedjacket ...
Comments
Ashleigh,
So sorry you have to have this done but hope you picked out a pretty nightie for the occasion! Take good care.
Hmmm Ashley, this sounds like an occasion for a new nightie AND a diamond ring! ; )
I think they should save the gallbladder in a jar for you to display to your relatives and that you should post graphic descriptions of your stitiches and incision for all of us in the blogosphere. ; )
Seriously, good luck with all that. Sorry about the surgery but when you're fully recovered and right as rain, the tulips will be blooming!
Good luck with your op. Wishing you a speedy recovery. Take a good book and some stitching. Will wait to hear all about your op on you blog. Take care
Good luck, Ash. I've two colleagues who have their gall bladder removed and they are no worse for it.
Good luck Ash! Hope it all goes according to plan.
I still think you should have got a bedjacket though - in hot pink with loads of frills! ;)
Hi
I worked in the lab a Alaska from 1968 to 1972 and I might have worked with your grandmother. What was their name?
Regards
Peter
Ash, take care and good luck. I can imagine you're looking forward to having this behind you.
Our family has similiar funny attitudes toward hospitalization. It was a laugh reading about another family being that way, too.
Take care!
February 7, 2006 7:35 PM