Well, she’s a gorgeous day here in Wellington, and I’m trapped inside some a hen-pecked child stuck at a violin rehearsal.

The story is that I got a phone call maybe 10 days ago from Auckland Hospital. It went something like, “Sunday 23 September, Grafton, be there.”

Me: “wtf?”

Them: “And stop taking your meds 5 days before you arrive.”

Me: “WTF?!”

Them: “Phone this number, ask for [Louie], he’ll arrange everything.”

Me: “Meh. Gift horse, mouth.”

It turns out that I was being summoned for some type of surgical procedure. I still dunno what. I still dunno how long I’ll be there. I still dunno how long till I’ll be allowed to go to work. I still dunno is it’s the local anaesthetic procedure I’ve heard about, or a general one. Nothing. Nada. Zip.

All I know is that I’ve spent three days now counting down the seconds on account of being off the meds.

Hence the staying in doors. If I become the tiniest bit stressed, BOOM, off goes the heart into tachycardia. I walked across the road this morning, and off it went.

So, here I am, sitting indoors, convalescing.


At least tomorrow I get to confine myself to yet another tiny aluminium box and fly to Auckland to maybe have this resolved…

Will keep you all posted. Maybe with pictures!