Another Pair Of Eyes

Fiction

I’ve not read a book in a long time. Far too long, in fact. The last two years have yielded only a smattering of literary opportunities (even for the dubious merits of Ken Follet-esque novels) and, frankly, I’d begun to forget to bother to try. Why start a book when there is only half an hour before you go to bed? More insidious still, why start a book and read for pleasure when there is important reading to be done in the sixth edition of Clinical Medicine? There was no time for these silly fancies, and realistically there still isn’t.

I was on amazon the other day, and I was ordering a new external HD to take over the storage of the various media permeating my unfortunately-stuffed 500GB one. On the spur of the moment I also saw that in my recommendations was a new book from an author I’d enjoyed in a previous life, so I ordered it. Hardback, sure, but somehow stuff doesn’t seem as expensive when you order it alongside something that costs a pretty penny already.

It arrived yesterday. I started it this morning, and finished it 5 hours later on the dot, having evidently underestimated the vociferous nature of my appetite for the written word.* A few years of fictional starvation (think about it…) can do wonders for your tolerance for that slight neckache associated with a not-quite-perfect posture as well.

Unfortunately, I fear that shall be the extent of my bookish wanderings for the time being as I need to delve back into the grimoires of my course rather than those more deserving of the grimoire definition. Still, it is good to be reminded, and perhaps I shall be more cautious about watching a film or a TV programme when I might instead fold myself into some contorted shape to cast some light on a good book.

I think forgetting to read caused me to forget how to play with words.

*however, I was shocked to find that my reading speed had dropped off somewhat to a rather paltry 100 pages an hour. Not, of course, that a figure can be put to the infinitely variable page and font sizes with any degree of reliability.

Morningwin

Well, it’s 7:37 as I start this and I’ve got nothing left to do before I leave for the hospital, because this morning has been such a whirl of efficiency it’s amazing. I’ve prepared or eaten all three meals for today (delete as appropriate), done a load of washing, and washing up, finished section C on my essay and I only got up at half 6.

AND today I’m not going to my usual ward round with Dr. See-no-students but instead I’m going on the neuro rehabilitation unit ward round, which is fascinating and has a brilliant consulant at its head. and then I shall come home and use my enormous pile of textbooks to finish my essay, submit it, and never think about it again. I will be free to focus on learning and revision for the intermediates, and it will be a strange kind of freedom.

Can you tell it’s a sunny morning?

No, that is not my gold car in our driveway.

…

“Always….”

“Oh God oh God-”

“World enough….”

“No!”

“And time….”

“Henry!“

Opening it and reading the first page I got shivers down my spine.

And Lucy was right, it is very human, beautifully so.

Still brilliant, and still devastating.

I finished it.