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March 17, 2019 by lucieromarin

I’m ill again. So far, two specialists have said How Unusual and one nurse (who took photos!) said, How Fascinating, but no real answers yet. Fortunately, no one has been actually alarmed (a delayed answer is definitely better than ‘oh dear, you have three weeks to live’) but it does mean things are a bit of a drag.

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“Do something to make the world a better place!” our class teacher said the other week, “Kill Trump! Kill Pell! Bomb the Catholic Church!” “Or all three,” a student added, and the white, female students laughed. I’m paying upwards of two grand for a grief-counselling unit, and all I’m learning is who my teacher wants to kill – and she knows, by the way, that there are at least two Catholics in her class. I went home with a sinking feeling in my stomach, realising that anti-Catholic bigotry is never, ever going to go away. I mean, she can hate whoever she likes – the bigotry is in saying that the classroom is a safe space, while simultaneously excluding Catholics from that safety. Does she think all Muslims are terrorists? I wonder.

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One of my Lenten disciplines is to work on praying for my enemies. This is hard. I feel like a good-at-heart bogan eating a subtle and exotic food for the first time. This practice is full of flavours to which my palate is quite unaccustomed. I like my deep-fried grief and salted anger. And you know what? There’s definitely a time for eating that stuff – like the white crackers and Vegemite that are the only things my body will take after a colossal migraine. In the raw aftermath, it’s the closest thing there is to self-care. At the same time, the new flavours aren’t…they aren’t repulsive. They’re just new. I can say that this is not a food to be shoved down anyone’s throat with pious words about forgiveness, but where a person is, from her own choice, willing to try it in small servings, it’s good to try.

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Speaking of self-care, I was recently introduced to the magical exercise of making a salt bath for feet. Oh, my goodness! All the stress and nausea drained out of me and into that little bath! If you’re broke, time-poor, stressed, unwell, or any combination of all four, try it! Fill a receptacle with warm water and a few tablespoons of salt. Then sit back and bathe your feet in it.

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Can you get through a whole episode of this? I couldn’t. I had no idea it existed until yesterday. How times change!! (And did the makers of this programme never actually read the description of how the child Paul was meant to look?!)

 

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