In fact, I had wanted drugs. Desperately. I am a big believer in better living through modern medicine. And better living, as I discovered on the trip over, most definitely includes not having to help my children to spew neatly for six hours while simultaneously trying to spew neatly myself.
So I went to the chemist, and asked for an anti-seasickness drug, and the lady reached to a shelf behind the counter - the place where you know they keep the strongest stuff - and handed me a packet.
Oh the relief! We wouldn't be sick on the trip back!
Only, there was a snag.
Because, you see, I never went to get the operation. Because, shorty after deciding I would, I saw a fertility chart, and based on my age alone I was one hair's width away from the big red line marked INFERTILE. Add to this the very few conceptions we have managed, and I just didn't see the point.
(And maybe I'm still a little hopeful.)
Now, I didn't really think I was pregnant, but there was some unusual spotting last week, and even that wouldn't have made me think I was pregnant, except that C said I was either pregnant or menopause was starting.
And him having said it out loud somehow made the possibility more likely - because damned if I'm going through menopause already - which, shit, meant I probably shouldn't take any medication.
SHIT.
Just to be sure, I asked the lady whether I could take the anti-seasickness drug if there was a possibility I was pregnant.
No problem! she said brightly. It's homeopathy! No side effects at all!
Well there's a revelation, there's no side effects from sugar pills!
But, WTF?? Since when do you go to a chemist, and ask for a drug, and get given sugar pills? From behind the counter? Where they keep the MEDICINE?
Now, some of you may be thinking I am being a little closed-minded about homeopathy, and yes it's true, I don't believe it. I would give a herbal remedy a go, but not something that a) requires water to have a memory, and b) requires this memory to be transfered to a pill. A BONE-DRY pill.
But there was another snag.
I am my father's daughter. My father who routinely walked into a shop knowing exactly what he wanted and then walked out with something else, something he didn't want and knew was wrong but had been convinced to buy anyway.
I wanted a clinical-trial-proven drug, I bought sugar pills.
Then I had a dilemma, because I really wanted to prove that the sugar pills were useless, only that would have meant us all spewing for six hours.
And since we didn't spew, I now have the frustration of not being able to categorically say this was because the ferry was bigger and the sea calmer, and not because of a 10-8 dilution of petrol and strychnine, amongst other poisons.
In a not-quite-but-pretty-close non sequitor, as well as a clumsy end to this post and ad for my own photos, go see how I could forgive Corsica for the trip over...
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