Make mine Moët 

Written by Mick
Not only has the writing of these blog posts been a cathartic exercise throughout this journey but so to has the process of acting like observers, rather than feeling like victims. When we first sat and waited in Austin Curtin’s consulting room, Prue’s innate eye for detail had her zoning in on the dishevelled, crammed layout, dated furnishings and paint work from the 80’s. Austin had no sooner walked in when Prue delivered her suggestions re a makeover of the room, to which he replied, ‘It’s all yours’. And she thought she couldn’t market herself! Of course observing is somewhat more challenging when you’re unconscious and the guy’s trawling your gut with a scalpel.

Our latest post-surgery debrief was with Terrence, the young registrar surgeon, the guy brandishing the scalpel in front of the ‘L’ plate. This meeting was always destined to be a biggy. Ten years back it was during such a meeting we learnt that I needed no follow up treatment… no chemo… no radiation …. nothing… job done… Tommy Tumour had left the building… go home and drink Moët till it seeps from your eye sockets (and probably create another Tommy). But Prue’s squatter had settled in, mounting shelves and hanging family portraits along the back passage. 

And so, Terrence and his small band of clinical cohorts, whisked us into a cold, sterile procedure room where we stood around a stainless steel trolley listening to Terrence describe what had been done during Prue’s surgery and the subsequent pathology results. It was tantamount to having a job interview in a janitor’s cupboard. Terrence is obviously no slouch on the tools, but he’s certainly devoid of a PH.D. in People Skills. In fairness, we were also in that particular room to have Prue’s bum stitches removed, so it was never going to be a totally happy, shiny occasion.

Terrence sketched how seventeen ‘wall fixings’ had been successfully removed, leaving just one as a reminder of the squatter’s existence. Given the size of the original squatter, follow-up chemo was always on the cards, but we had prayed for a Moet outcome. This was more a Yellow Glen result – yeah, we got bubbles, but you can’t drink the bloody stuff! Having said that, the result was considered to be a very good surgical outcome, and why wouldn’t it be? How would we have felt had those numbers been reversed – one dodgy bit removed and seventeen remaining? We may well have then asked, why did we go through with the surgery? Terrence said that if Prue was much older they would probably forgo further chemo, but given her youth they want to make sure they nail it now. On leaving we thanked Terrence and I shook his hand which, compared to Austin, was like grasping a condom full of lukewarm oil. 

From the moment this journey began we have had little choice but to try and remove this invader using every traditional medical strategy available. And we are very fortunate that the medicos in this area happen to be bloody good at rectifying colorectal catastrophes. Yes, we would’ve loved to have gone down the alternate route, but even Handymanning 101 tells you, if you’ve got a blocked dunny, best you don’t try and meditate the shit away. Just call a fucking plumber! So, in a couple of weeks we will meet with Austin to discuss the next chapter of the Tao Of Prue, and probably, if Prue has her way, the surgical gutting of his rooms. 


18 thoughts on “Make mine Moët 

  1. It feels so wrong to laugh out so loudly Michael, but your posts are hilarious. ‘A condom full of lukewarm oil’! Lordy! And the mounting of family portraits up the back passage? Geez! Bloody Marvellous Michael. You’re a godsend in countless ways. Lovely to hear from you with your fabulous take on the process. Love to you both. xoxoxox

    1. Hi San, M here. Yeah, it’s a weird space this one. Do you laugh or do you cry?
      We know which one we prefer. It’s amazing how playing observer can actually make chunks of this feel like fiction, like we’re watching a movie. And just to keep it light, if time doesn’t exist, maybe all this just is and always was – one big rerun so don’t get too hung up on it. It’s a nice theory until the scalpels start carving one’s own flesh. Hope that clarifies things, San. Big HI to the guys
      X m

  2. On the bright side, Pwoo gets to keep the candleholders a tad longer. ❤ Go well you two good peeps. ❤

    1. Lovely Loothey, M here… what candle holders… I upped the wattage of our candles and they melted. They don’t make clay like they used to!

  3. Thanks Mike. It does seem the higher the skill of the surgeon the less people skills they have. Maybe you guys should write their scripts for them – at least you paint a clear picture of the situation at hand and give a giggle at the same time. Don’t they say laughter is the best medicine?!
    I know the result is far from ideal but boy oh boy how much worse if could have been…. I think if you get the option to get rid of the bloody thing I would take it. Squatter be gone!!! Leave our Prue alone!❤️

    1. M here Julie, yes, young Terrence has a way to go, but thankfully Austin his teacher is exceptionally good. By the way Julie, it was sad to hear you thought P’s hospital food looked pretty good… well I felt sad for John and your kids at least. And re your comment re computers highlighting my age, I’ve always thought you were too perceptive for your own good!
      Hi to you all
      X m

  4. PS. We’ll put the bottle of Moët on ice ready to come up and celebrate the exorcism with you💕💕

  5. Ahhhh MM
    Ditto to Sandy’s post. Though my laughter spilled out uncontrollably at “if you’ve got a blocked dunny, best you don’t try and meditate the shit away.”
    All power to you and our dear Prue.

  6. PS. RE Austin Curtin’s consulting room. Have just done a bit of desk-based research to support Prue’s budding new career. Findings to date:

    “Design of a consultation room can improve the quality of a visit to the physician’s office”
    “Provision of staff relaxation rooms that are different in terms of colour and lux levels from immediate work spaces, or thoughtfully designed areas for patients awaiting intensive treatment, have been shown to have some beneficial effects on a sense of well being. Colour and design have not been established as a definite cure for sickness and ill health, but certainly monotony and poor conditions in premises that have not been refurbished with any care, have had a detrimental affect on recovery rates and staff morale. The realisation that a well balanced and attractive environment is of major importance to patients’ health is, in no way new; Florence Nightingale observed that ‘a variety of form and brilliance of colour in the objects presented to patients are an actual means of recovery.”

      1. Now THAT I would like to see Mick….it would certainly be a first mate xx hugs to your petal from mwaaaaa xxx

  7. You are hysterical Michael! 😄I love your attitude and your way with words. I think you could do a stand up comedy routine🤗I am sure you are keeping Prue entertained which is just what she needs. Love to you both. Pxx💗💗

    1. Thanks Peta, M here. After doing a bit of stand up a few years ago I realised my strengths are actually in sitting down and shutting up
      Big Byron Hugs to all of you down there
      X m

  8. The fact u know so much about what condoms, full of stuff, feel like, impresses , bewilders and grosses me out. Stop playing with used condoms. And go wash your hands. I Am Byron bound in about 5 hours. I hope the sun is shining in your household today ❤️😘🕺🏻💃xxxxxxxx

    1. Hope it’s not too late to pack the brolly Ingrid, Byron is apparently up for 200-300 mm of rain this weekend! Hopefully we can catch up but as I mentioned, the blister is in town but we’ll see what transpires. xx

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