“So, how are things?” My psychiatrist Dr Stein says, pen poised above my notes. He’s sitting on one side of the desk and I’m sitting on the other side. The panther lies on the floor at my feet, tail curled round himself.
“Well,” I say. “I’m feeling a bit better: been exercising and going to The Office and writing the blog every day and…”
“Good,” he says, scribbling in my notes.
“My mood is still low though,” I say. “I mean, it’s come up a bit but…do you think maybe we need to up the dose of the lurasidone or…”
“When do you go in for your operation?” He says, looking at me with his piercing blue eyes.
“Tuesday,” I say. “At seven o’clock in the morning so…”
“Well, I’m reluctant to change anything when you’re just about to have surgery,” he says. “Let’s see how you are when you’ve had the operation. I want you to give this letter to your surgeon which says that they can call me if there are any problems or…”
“Thank you,” I say. After my last operation my mood went very high and the hospital didn’t get in touch with him, so we don’t want that to happen again. It was just by chance that he visited me in hospital and ended up having to prescribe extra Clonazepam as the morphine, surgery or a combination of the two had sent my mood up to a dangerous level.
In other news, the fluffy monster has a strange wound above his eye. Look:Any idea what’s going on here? We are flummoxed by it. The vet has told Mum to bathe the wound with salt water, and not to bring him into the surgery unless it becomes infected.
Here he is rolling in the garden:
“Well he’s gobbled down a whole plate of food in about thirty seconds,” Mum says. Let’s just hope there’s nothing wrong with him.
The attached photo is at Spin this morning.
Happy Saturday everyone!
*2012. By Anita Nair. Brutal psychological thriller set in Bangalore, starring Inspector Borei Gowda.