It’s been a whirlwind of a time. How has this meerkat managed? How has my family managed? Well, you’re about to find out!
Out of Breath
I mean that literally and figuratively. I am exhausted, dear ‘kats. A week spent in London for my daugher’s radioactive iodine treatment was, in theory, one that planted me in the accommodation for parents with kids going through such things, my wife in hospital in a room adjoining my daughter’s room, and my daughter in a lead-lined room, sealed in due to her becoming radioactive.
Now, there were certainly occasions where I was alone in my room, so to speak. There were also occasions where we still ended up running around London (especially in the weekend before the radioactive pill), and this was all a bit much for this meerkat. With a long week ahead, I didn’t need or want a weekend that was too chaotic. Instead, the Friday saw me traipse across London several times, at one stage walking in the pouring rain, to get to the accommodation, and then back to the ExCel Centre, where my wife and daughter were attending a convention.
I then ended up going back across London to escort them back to the accommodation.
It was all a bit much for this stressed and weary meerkat. With pre-pill injections scheduled for Saturday and Sunday, all I wanted to do was chill out a bit. I certainly needed the beers on Friday night.
It may sound like I’m whinging, and maybe I am, but all of this business, with repeated, lengthy trips into London, some anxious days and nights concerning my daughter’s health, and the sheer physical toll of a lot of extra, unplanned travel, has taken its toll on me. Between this business, and the chaos at work earlier in the year, I am ready for 2026 to be over.
Of course, in some respects my wife has had it worse. Her hospital-provided accommodation is a tiny room with a fold down bed. Whereas they’ll kick me out at a certain point in the evening to return to the external place, she stayed in hospital. You can imagine how that would have been.
In the end, my daughter’s had it the worst of all of us. She has faced challenges in 2026 that we could never have predicted. Numerous scans, blood tests, and two surgeries. Faced being locked in a room for a week due to treatment. She’s faced all of that, whilst coping with her GCSEs. Her resilience throughout all of this has been remarkable, and a testament to her courage and composure.
There’s something about hospitals that lends them to being exhausting. On the day of her iodine treatment, my daughter had to be at the hospital for 9 am, and thus my alarm was set for 7 am. With car alarms, emergency vehicles and possibly a rubbish truck all creating a lot of noise overnight, sleep was at a premium. Once at the hospital, there was a lot of waiting around, punctured by moments of activity, such as blood tests, blood pressure tests, and other tests that meant my daughter was once again poked and prodded. Once again, she weathered all this with bravery.
The actual treatment was in pill form, and it was all over very quickly. The possibility existed of being released home the very following day, following a scan and checks on radiation levels. What a blessing that would be, if it proved true. Fortunately, it did, with a few conditions about keeping distance and being safe around the vulnerable.
All of this has left me feeling quite emotional. The other night, as I sat in the accommodation, I cried a bit, as I weighed up how close we (hopefully) are to ending this dreadful saga. I want my daughter to be healthy. I want normality to return. I don’t want us to be metaphorically looking over our shoulders, wondering what might happen next.
And Then There Were Two
Of the original Star Trek cast, only two now remain, George Takei and William Shatner. Sadly, Walter Koenig, who portrayed Pavel Chekov, has passed away at the age of 90.
It’s scary and sad to think that these people, who provided so much entertainment and inspiration to so many, are moving beyond this mortal coil. They were icons to me, and still are. My wife was fortunate enough to have a photo with both Koenig and Takei; I have had a photo with Takei and Shatner, and I am grateful to have taken that opportunity when it arose. Farewell Walter.
Manifestations of Mayhem
The first dream back in my own bed was definitely channeling the events of the previous few days. I was in a hospital as weird zombie shit unfolded, and at one point I was jumping down the stairs to bypass floors more quickly. Once outside, there was some of shootout outside the hospital, and explosions, as several assassins confronted each other. Make of that what you will.
We’d have to wait for the scan results, and I was keeping everything crossed for the best possible outcome. What I really wanted was to ‘ring the bell’ so to speak, to conclude this anxious, terrifying saga.
A Slow Return to Normal
As the dust settled on a frantic week, the last few days were spent in relative relaxation. I think as a family we had certainly earned it! Such was my weariness that on Thursday I slept in till 9:45 am! I know right, positively late… indeed, by my usual standards that’s definitely late!
Challenges certainly remain. My book efforts have completely stalled. I am certain work will contain frustration upon my return, because it always does. There is Christmas to prepare for, which is guaranteed to be stressful. My left shoulder keeps giving me grief. Still, despite all of that, drawing a line under everything to do with my daughter has taken a lot of anxiety off my plate.
Dreams have continued to be unusual, but that’s my brain’s way of processing recent events. I had a dream where my wife, daughter and I travelled to the south west, and we were staying at a small, rustic country pub. At one stage we headed into the local town, accidentally ended up in a local hospital, and we were then trying to book a doctor’s appointment. That same night also delivered a dream where I was at school, and someone threatened me, until they realised I was someone else.
The Measure of a Man
No sooner had the world of Star Trek lost Walter Koenig, it suffered another blow. One of the defining characters of The Next Generation, and indeed the entire franchise, is Jean-Luc Picard. Outwardly quite stern (at least to begin with) and disciplined, Picard proved to be a man of principle, conviction, and compassion. Never rash, always prepared to fight for his crew, and for the ideals of the Federation, Picard was inspirational.
The actor who portrayed him across seven years of The Next Generation, three seasons of Picard, and four movies, Sir Patrick Stewart, embodied many powerful ideals of his own. He campaigned for women’s rights and against domestic violence. He campaigned for better care for veterans of combat. He fought for a better understanding of pit bulls. He worked tirelessly for equality. Sir Patrick Stewart and Jean-Luc Picard were not the same person, but they certainly overlapped.
I’ve referenced before how The Next Generation was my gateway into sci-fi. The character of Picard and Sir Patrick’s performances as him are a big part of why I fell in love with Star Trek, and therefore sci-fi. To learn of his passing was to receive a body blow. I am reeling from this.
Back to the Grind
Returning to work on Saturday was not exactly a culture shock, but for some reason I had been locked out of my account, and couldn’t do anything about that until Monday. With appointments and such likely to resume at a fairly regular pace, I had to get back up to speed quickly. I can’t say I was in the mood for such things.
I certainly wasn’t in the mood for the early starts. Monday would herald the resumption of 6 am alarms and lots of scurrying around to get out of the door in a timely manner. Noone in our house was relishing that.
On the other hand, it represented a return to normal. Stability has been hard to come by in recent weeks. Routine and regular service would at least offer some form of peace.
Giving the Gift of Hope
In the wake of recent events, I want to give something back. You might have noticed this Gofundme info on the homepage, and I’m sharing it here too. The starting goal is £500, but the more that can be raised, the better.
Bitty Days and Endless Chatter
Monday was certainly a bit of a shock to the system, and what made it annoying was a steady stream of nattering customers, and endless phone calls. It was not a bad day as such, just bitty and broken up, which is annoying.
Monday also rammed home another depressing detail: the nights are now drawing in. It had not even reached 5.30 pm and it was dark outside. A bleak prospect, to put it mildly. Summer might have been overwhelmingly hot, but it was bright. I prefer summer to winter, any day.
I also prefer customers who respect opening hours. On Monday we yet again had to deal with customers who don’t respect our opening hours. It is enormously frustrating. The store is open for long hours. We are here for long hours. We are not slaves to work, and we have lives outside of the showroom. I wish people would respect this considerably more.
Tuesday had the potential to be a long day too. The sale changed, which meant point of sale needed updating. This isn’t usually as bad as it seems.
Turning Back the Clock
Eagle-eyed purveyors of Meerkat Musings might have noticed some additional Muse entries, backdated to 2020. I am in the process of slowly adding older Muses to the diary, via the Wayback Machine. It may take me a while, but I’ll get there. It’s an exercise in completeness, covering off a fairly significant portion of time, so I think it’s worthwhile.
It is here that I bring this particular Meerkat Muse to its end. Until next time!
