And Mrs Ottawacker makes three

The ongoing malady that continues to stalk our house claimed Mrs Ottawacker as her latest victim. She who serves as the paragon of health and vitality in la casa Ottawacker finally cracked. She took to the reclining chair in the living room and demanded, albeit occasionally, honey and lemon and tissues. Ottawacker Jr had enough – and went to school. I was not so lucky.
 
Nonetheless, I had a 9am appointment at the optometrist, as they were due to make the final changes to my new frames (the previous frame, you might remember, having cracked under the groaning weight of my palm as I hauled myself from the downstairs bathroom floor). I hate driving downtown in rush hour – but, as it transpired, it was easy. Very little traffic, no problem parking, and even the optometrist was on time, smiling, and quick. I was in and out in five minutes, which might be the title of the second volume of my memoirs.
 
While Mrs Ottawacker tried to get an appointment with a doctor, I did a little work. Then, mid-morning, a shock. I’ve probably mentioned a few times how hard it is to get medical supervision over here – and how, the system being a mess, my current doctor had decided he’d take on a less stressful and hazardous job like forest fire fighting or lion taming. The last thing I was expecting happened. The Circumcision Factory, as it is known in our neck of the woods, called and said that Dr Hassan had requested a “meet and greet” for June 6. Even then I almost messed it up.
 
“I don’t know a Dr Hassan,” I said.
“You don’t?” came the weary reply
“No,” I said.
“Do you want to?”
“Why?”
“Because he’s new to the practice and he’s taking on new patients.”
“…”
 
And that, other than a quick shopping trip for dinner, as Mrs Ottawacker sped off to a late evening doctor’s appointment (she’ll survive, it’s a cold), was that. A half-chapter of The Graveyard Book for Ottawacker Jr, and then an episode of his latest favourite All Creatures Great and Small.