It seems to be a leaky sort of time all round. Outside it’s a typical English October – leaks: leaks from steely rainclouds overhead; leaks from the neighbours’ guttering, beating an irregular tattoo on their new, annoying conservatory; leaks from my own guttering, landing on the back of my neck every time I open the back door; leaky politicians on the radio, dripping out the same old drivel everyday, and now – ? Leaks from my hot water bottle.
I have – well, had – a hot water bottle. It had a blue plush cover and was of German manufacture and so entirely to be trusted. But I suppose even German hot water bottles have a limited lifespan.
I’ve been unwell for the last couple of days – oh, waves of pain from something or other wrong with my innards. I long ago gave up trying to understand my innards, they are a law unto themselves. No doubt if I went to the doctor (if I could get an appointment with a doctor) he would tell me it was IBS, since I am female and too old for it to be the menopause or anything else female. If I was male, it would no doubt turn out to be something more specific and important-sounding.
And so I resorted to the hot water bottle (plus the occasional paracetamol, and patience)and went to bed clutching one to my poor hurty tummy. It makes not the slightest difference to the pain, of course. All psychological.
Waking at some ungodly hour in the morning, covered in snoring cats, I realised something was amiss. I was soaked. Much of the bed was soaked. The cats snored on, regardless. Surely, I thought, I am as yet too young for Incontinence. Please God do not let it be me who has started leaking! Visions of endless, shameful sheet-washing and visits from uniformed, patronising district nurses to ‘advise’ me on ‘products’… Oh God, please do not let it be that…
But, as you will have guessed by now, it was my no longer/trusty blue hot water bottle. Damnation, I thought, and threw it out, covering the wet patch with a folded blanket and continuing to be in pain until the morning when – guess what – I was in pain again.
Luckily I have two other trusty, Germanic hot water bottles – a cream one and a red one. We will see how long they last.
And now – just to add a little spice to life – my WordPress editor seems to have regressed into some kind of proto-editor, from back in the days of Tim Berners-Lee and the baby internet. I am now having to put in all the code stuff (like italics) by hand. I’m not risking any other code stuff. No idea when, or whether, it might decide to switch itself back to normal.
Tedious online research coming up, though I may risk another cup of coffee first.