Put me on my death bed right now and I would spend most of my time snivelling and trying to get sympathy. In between, if you were silly enough to ask, I would probably recount my life in journeys. Student debt to solvency, single to happily married, starting points, turning points, aspirations. You know, the big stuff. I might not mention which particular diet fads worked or didn't work. I may not remember that mistake I made at work which was not significant but for which I spent nearly an entire week mentally crippling myself. I would definitely not care whether on Tuesday 24 August 2003, someone had remembered to put the bins out.

And yet on a daily basis approximately 90% of my energy is ploughed into just those issues and the bigger picture is....well, a bit over pixelated.

This is fine, I reason. And perfectly rational. What is important however is not to let stuff I won't remember prevent me from finding the time to create the memories I will cherish.

And so....operation no regrets. Beginning with a travelling adventure. Eleven months, eleven counties, two backpacks, myself, my husband and the odd mosquito along for the ride.

Sunday, 16 November 2014

The right kind of racket

We go first thing to the Kantha Bopha hospital to donate blood. They take less than they do on the UK so we feel fine. Everything is so well set up. We are given a sugary drink and a bag including a t shirt with the Kantha Bopha logo on, a packet of crackers, even a little bag of multivitamins and iron tablets. Each of us is asked to stand next to a number on the wall, which is the number that each of our donations was. We are 423 and 424. They make a collage of all the faces. 

We are told that our blood type (A) is in demand at the moment for a little girl who is waiting to have a heart operation. It may be that the place is so well set up that they have a case in mind to match each blood type so that when you give you can know a specific case your gift is going to help with. It strikes me that what Dr Beat is running is as well thought out, with as much attention to the attitudes and mindset of people as a very clever scam. Except it isn't a con. Dr Beat plays to our heart strings and uses the result for real good. He understands the need to feel that the gift is personal, and rewards doners with exactly that feeling. We leave, as one so often does after doing something for the benefit of someone else, with a feeling of euphoria. I beam at the lady we pass on the way out, carrying her healthy looking child out of the hospital. I have the ridiculous feeling that somehow I did it.

Maybe it's OK to be self congratulatory. Maybe it's OK to be anything just as long as you've actually done something.

It feels really nice to have been given the opportunity.

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