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Showing posts from August, 2020

RIB-TICKLER

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I am a Fabergé egg, cradled gingerly between the crisp white linen gloves of an auction-house porter. As he trips on a protruding ridge of carpet, the assembled audience gasps. The extravagantly-decorated artefact bobbles upwards, out of his grip for a moment. But like a pro-cricketer, rugby union player or basketball star, the porter regains his composure and secures the egg, juggling the prize back into his grasp, before it lands on the floor. An audible sigh of relief emanates from the crowd.   At least that’s how I feel, as fragile as one of the rare, jewelled, ornamental eggs created in the nineteenth century for Tsar Alexander III. There are at least eight reasons for this whimsical state of mind. They are itemised in the letter sent from St Mary’s Hospital in Paddington’s major trauma unit to my GP. This missive refers to the CT scan taken of me at C helsea and Westminster Hospital which showed, “eight right-sided rib fractures and a small volume of surgical emphysema”. Eight br