7 Signs of Ageing: "Spectrally Transmitted Diseases"
My mother's transformation from human to pensioner this year, along with noticing several younger friends dying has caused her to be extra sensitive when it comes to health issues and the whole concept of mortality.
On the one hand, my mother believes in ghosts. Because one morning a long time ago, after my dad had left for work, a ghost sat on her bed and breathed a bit. But don’t you dare mock her obviously genuine paranormal experience! Because she didn’t tell anyone and then a few days later my dad mentioned to her that the same thing had happened to him. Explain that! My dad also had the additional detail of seeing his dead father. But it was all true enough to her; very obviously so when you see her talking about it. I mock her a little bit by telling her John Lennon is protesting in her bed or Nora Batty has put the kettle on in her kitchen, that kind of thing.
But when I did try and believe everything and talk about it seriously she was only civil with me until I said solemnly, “mum, if you were raped by a ghost, you would tell me wouldn’t you.” But fine, fine. I fucked off like she requested....
I was even more shocked than the paranormal bollocks (literally perhaps), when I discovered she’d sent off for free DVDs of religious propaganda. Contemplating the meaning of life is no reason whatsoever for turning to religion, especially in the form of free DVDs.
To make it worse, when reviewing them a couple of days later, all she said was, “I knew most of the stories already”, said in same way as someone having just watched a repeat on TV, when they were expecting a new episode. I suppose she does has a point though. Those writers of the bible, what do they do now?? Yeah, just cunts living off the royalties.
Some say the key to staying alive is not dying. Others say it’s A flat. But I neither worry about dying or obsess about Bee Gees songs. My mother tends to assume she has multiple, as yet undiscovered, serious disorders. And she loves testing herself for anything. One day I walked in and saw her stabbing herself with a needle from her sewing box. Apparently she snapped the contraption in her DIY cholesterol test, but remained determined enough to painfully gore her finger anyway.
A couple of months ago I felt compelled to steal a leaflet about uterine fibroids from my mother’s letter rack. “If you are suffering from fibroids, or know someone who is.....” The reason I took it was the unbelievable photo of women sharing their, obviously hilarious, tales of uterine fibroids. If like me you’re considering consulting your GP about acquiring such joyous tumours, take it from me, they’re strict about needing a uterus.
Being so health conscious, it’s interesting to note my mother’s lack of haste when asked by my father to make him a doctor’s appointment to discuss a John McCain style growth on the side of his head that doesn’t seem to be going. His brother had skin cancer recently, so even my dad, someone who avoids medical professionals for decades at a time, thinks it would be a good idea to see a doctor (obviously not "his" doctor, he's well dead by now). But nope, my mother is probably going it put it off on purpose to increase the chances of getting, what she terms as, “a few goods years without him”. In her defence, I can imagine my dad really enjoying being a spectral sex offender. Not in a bad way or anything.
I fear for the mental health of other members of my immediate family too. I was with several of them and read the headline “Girl robbed during epileptic fit” and chuckled loudly. BUT, no one else did. See....fucking weirdoes.
