The British are coming!

A phrase I remember oh so well. Paul Revere supposedly galloped up and down the streets one night shouting “The British are coming! The British are coming!”. I remember it because I was a big Paul Revere fan. My elementary school was named after him.

I use the phrase when my in-laws are coming to visit us. But it’s rather silly because the Brits are already here. Three out of four members of my family ARE British. Then again three out of four members of my family are American. Desney and I are the only mono-nationality members, Alexandra is dual-nationality (for the moment) and Jessica is triple-nationality.

The Wilkinsons arrived yesterday afternoon. Desney went to pick them up at the airport. They seemed very pleased to be here and their trip went well. They got the tour of the house and the kids then began their usual non-stop demands for attention. I left them to it and went to sleep in our bedroom.

The night before was the first night I slept in our bed, with Desney, in many weeks. Poor Desney. Although I only got out of bed once I spent most of the evening coughing and retching and I’m afraid neither of us got a lot of sleep. I am able to catch up with a nap in the afternoon but she isn’t. She never stops. I felt bad about it but I also felt quite helpless as I tend to feel during these moments. With most of my health situation I feel helpless. It’s like there’s someone else pulling the strings and every now and then he just jerks one and I suddenly cough up. After coughing I tend to hit something like the wall or a table. It’s a release from the pain but it’s also subconsciously probably what I’d like to do to whoever is pulling the strings.

I’m able to eat reasonably well. I had eggs and yogurt for breakfast and my now classic Rénutryl for lunch. But I’m still not gaining weight and even lose a few hundred grams every now and then. It brings back strange memories. Most people who know me as an adult would find it difficult to believe. But when I was a child, and especially an adolescent, I would try very hard to gain weight. I wasn’t weak. I had the right muscles in the right places. But I just wasn’t bulky. A very strange and awkward combination of broad shoulders, short arms and a basically squat form without the weight. It’s been a long time that I haven’t been in the mind frame of trying actively to gain weight. It’s quite fun actually. I can eat anything I want. I just wish food tasted better and it didn’t hurt so much to swallow.

We had fresh mussels for dinner along with chips. With Desney’s wonderful cream sauce they went down easily and I just kept eating… The rest of the family appeared to enjoy it as well and the André Ehrhart Gewurztraminer (Herrenweg) appeared to go down just as well as the mussels. The wine smelled wonderful and looked great in the glass.

I slept with my wife again, as it should be, and it was only a slightly better night. But it was better rather than worse.

Today everyone, except my father-in-law Bill, headed out to La Défense for the Christmas market and last minute Christmas shopping. They appear to have had a great time spending money which is such an important part of the Christmas spirit.