I flop onto the bed closest to the bathroom to stake my claim, Sue gets the window seat. We slide into our costumes and trundle to the Spa but my active epilepsy limits the list of treatments available to me, well very; pedicure or manicure covers the selection. My last Spa experience involved a half hour finger drumming wait before the therapist shook her head
Sorry I can't treat you, it wouldn't be safe
Mr H was caught in the backlash of tears and a one footed stamp.
So I stick to the 'safe treatment list' and clutch my health details close to my chest. None of their business! My pedicure takes my feet to heaven.
At dinner we snigger behind our hands as we watch a wedding party struggle under umbrellas on their way to the marquee disco. The arboretum of trees glimmer as flowers bow their heads to stop the sweeping rain stealing their petals as I overhear the man at the next table say:
They have not stopped talking from the moment they sat down.
Twenty four years of friendship and a roller coaster of life changing events have not stolen our ability to giggle and gossip. I recount a time when we gatecrashed a wedding disco after sucking the helium out of all the balloons, squealing as we recited rhymes with our high pitched voices. We consider the same tonight, but bed with camomile tea wins.
I had lots of friends when I was well
but true friends stay with me when I am not.