Saturday, October 31, 2009

Day 27

Today as my friends in the USA prepare for Halloween, the family and I head to the coast. Now that spring has finally sprung this little troupe is fleeing for some much needed vitamin D and ocean air.

So I am spending my morning dashing around the house packing for EVERYONE (including the dog) while also taking stock of our swim wear situation and determining how much hair I may need to remove before exposing my bikini body on the beach. It’s Halloween but arriving at the beach as a werewolf is not how I envisaged this weekend to commence.

The good news is that the kids still seem to fit in their boardies and rashies, as does my husband. The even better news is that my swimwear appears in great shape, with elasticity in tact, internal bra still firm, and all ties and clips fully functioning. And after plucking at my mane, tucking in a few stray hairs here and there and shaving a few areas, I will not be wearing a Halloween costume to the beach today. It’s all good! But then I turn around and see it. What is that? What the …????

On my upper buttocks region is an ENORMOUS bruise. It looks like I have been dropped from a great height, or whacked in the bum by a cricket bat, or I have been partaking in some S&M. It is black and brown and round. It is accentuated of course by the fact that I am end-of-winter-white. It’s hideous.

It’s actually not a bruise (or so the nurses tell me). It is simply the discolouration from my iron injections. It doesn’t look good – it looks like a bloody big bruise that stays on your arse for months. It’s normal … well, normal if you have low iron and need to be jabbed. But how normal is it going to look on the beach? I have been having injections for a few months now due to ridiculously low iron. As a woman mid life can also bring with it low iron due to years of monthly iron depletion. Yes, yet another deep fried fruit phenomenon.

So here I am in my swimwear for the first time in months and I have this whopping big black mark peaking out the top of my bikini pants. Hmmm. What to do, what to do ….? If I go to the beach like this the authorities will haul Derek away in handcuffs. I guess that is an option …. Or … I could ditch the bikini for a one piece and call a truce. What! And not get my nicely padded tummy roll tanned? I’m not sure about that.

The world is just going to have to deal with damaged deep fried fruit … and Derek may just have to spend the night behind bars ...

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