Day 2, question 2: Describe a moment or a day when being single really sucked.
I could be facetious and just say “Take your pick –
Wednesday when I did really well in an interview and wanted someone to get as
excited about it as I was; Thursday when I was feeling horny; Friday when I cut
my finger and was convinced I was going to bleed out in my living room alone; Saturday
when I was twitching for a night out and there was no one around; Sunday when I
wanted to go to the pub to watch the Ryder Cup and couldn’t bring myself to go
alone because not only would my secret be out (I watch golf!), but it’s still
slightly odd for a woman to go into a pub on her own in Dublin in 2014; Monday
when I cooked enough dinner for a family of seven and ran out of Tupperware
containers to freeze it and would have liked a man to horse into two or three
portions; Tuesday when I wanted a hug after a rather depressing meeting with a
recruiter who told me that opportunities are slim and I need to basically lower
my expectations, look internationally or, in my words, settle!”
But the question is to describe a day or moment, so here
goes.
I’m quite an independent person. I have been on my own for a while and
know how to change a light bulb, fix a TV, cook a three course meal for fourpeople,
live on my own, travel on my own, who to phone when the car breaks down! I’m the person my family calls when something
goes wrong. It’s my role, I’m the carer, the fixer, the one who can ‘help’…so
when I’m the one who needs help, care, something goes wrong...well eh what do you do?!.
Twice recently I found myself in a vulnerable position where
I needed help. I had to go into hospital
for the most minor of minor elective surgeries, which was my first experience
of ‘going under’. I have to say I was very excited and mildly nervous of being
under general anaesthetic. Would I be
that urban legend who would wake up mid-op and feel pain but be paralysed to
speak? Would I have an out of body
experience, the story of which I could sell to dailymail.co.uk? Would I even
die and my last thought be ‘I hope they sort out the lump on my fing….’
Foolishly perhaps, I didn’t think that I would not be
released to go home on my own, after being knocked out and also for the first
time. So when my dad dropped me to the
clinic on his way to his hospital appointment, I warned him that he was to go
home, I did not want to wake up and he there, I was a big girl and
could look after myself. So two
hours later when the 15 year old nurse asked me who was collecting me, I rather
proudly said “Oh I’ll be getting a taxi”…and she retorted “Oh you won't be getting a taxi, you must be
collected, we can’t release you otherwise.”
“Oh eh OK, well, (mind runs quickly through list of friends –
France, New York, Boston, just had baby, Cork, Italy…they were all out of
Dublin!!) what time will I be released?”
“I don’t know, two hours after you come back to the ward”“Yeah but what time will that be, it’ll be too late for my father, he will be gone, I told him to go…”
“I don’t know exactly, maybe 4.00, maybe 3.00. I’m sure a friend would collect you, do you…have…a friend?”
“It’s Friday afternoon, everyone is at work”
“But we can keep you until after work, surely a…friend…would collect you”
“I DON’T HAVE A "FRIEND"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
OK so I didn’t verbalise the last bit but was screaming it inside…and there and then I realised I don’t have that one person who MUST come and collect me, who knows that I’m in hospital and would probably know that I would need collecting and would make it his business to be available. And while I did have people to call and they all just happened to be otherwise engaged and I did call my brother who very kindly, with no questions, jumped to it and stepped right in and I will be eternally grateful to him, at that very moment, I just lay there in the gaping at the back hospital gown, on my own, thinking “being single SUCKS!!!!!”
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