My diagnosis

Remember me panicking about having an x-ray and ultrasound last week on my spine and hip?

Well guess what they found …

Nothing.

No arthritis, no inflammation, no disc problems.

Righto then. Well, I suppose that’s good news.

As for Freddie the Fibroid, he might be causing the issues, but the doctor said there was no guarantee that taking him out would help.

She kindly suggested my pain issues were “functional” and I should try pilates.

Then she moved on to discussing my blood test results, which were very not good news.

My cholesterol and sugar are up and I am running the risk of pre-diabetes. In short, the doctor’s diagnosis was that I have to eat less and exercise more, which is a polite way of saying I’m fat.

That’s in addition to Freddie making me look like I’m 14-16 weeks pregnant.

So I’ve been advised to go on the Mediterranean Diet for three months then get my blood tested again to see if it worked. If it hasn’t, I will need to do a stress test to make sure I’m not screwing up my heart.

I may not have repeated all those details entirely correct as I was overwhelmed by all the gentle admonishment going on.

Anyhoo … You know how in the movies alcoholics have an epiphany and tip all their booze down the sink?

I didn’t have the junk food equivalent of that after I left the doctor’s surgery.

There was a sausage roll waiting for me in the car, which I’d bought the French patisserie next door to soothe my hangover from celebrating Kathleen’s acquittal.

There was no way I was binning it, so I resolved to start the boring diet later.

I had also booked dinner at a restaurant called Colombo Social that night before heading to the Enmore Theatre to see The Cruel Sea.

As the restaurant’s website explains it, “Colombo Social is a social enterprise kitchen, serving up soulful Sri Lankan food and vibrant cocktails while providing employment opportunities, practical experience and training for people seeking asylum.”

There wasn’t much in the way of Mediterranean Diet food on the menu, so we shrugged our shoulders and tucked in to Colombo Social’s signature roti taco stuffed with spiced crab, papaya salsa, spicy mayo & pol sambol; twice cooked sweet corn with chilli salt & curry powder spiced feta; Colombo Ceviche with curry powder cured kingfish with fresh coconut and chili oil served with papadums; and village-style red curry chicken cooked on the bone simmered with tangy lemongrass, ginger, pandan leaf, coconut milk and tomato.

Oh and I had curry leaf gimlet for social media purposes.

It was such a great spot and the staff were lovely. It was also very busy, so we’d been shoehorned into a 6pm booking, which left us with ages until the band came on, so we went to a fantasy bar called Baby Dragon.

The head bartender is a friendly bloke called Quinton who specialises in theatrical cocktails that feature lots of smoke and flames.

We were very boring and ordered a glass of wine while watching as he concocted various dazzling cocktails, then we popped next door for The Cruel Sea, who were in fine form.

Tex Perkins is quite the character, tall, lanky and physically expressive, you’d never guess he was turning 60 next year.

His voice is incredible, so deep and glorious.

My favourite songs were “Honeymoon is over”, “This is not the way home” and “Woman with soul”.

I insisted the youngest play “Honeymoon is over” on our way to the beach on Saturday. She endured it then refused to play any more of their songs because they made her head hurt, returning instead to her high rotation Fleetwood Mac/Billy Joel/Elton John/Queen playlist.

Young people these days.

And now another working week begins. Fortunately my Christmas shopping is almost done.

As for 2023, I’m completely done with it. My annual leave can’t start soon enough.

And just one more specialist appointment for the year for the youngest this arvo. I’m done with those too.

Are you taking a break over Chrissie?

Song of the day: The Cruel Sea “Honeymoon is over”