Sitting in the hospital waiting room, eyes closed from the pain, listening to security throw out a drunken Polish man was not what I had in mind for last Monday morning when I should have been at an interview. I look at my reflection in my compact mirror - the right side of my face looks as though someone has filled it with a pair of testicals.
The night before I was fine, I only had a mild pain which I mistook for a sore throat. I was on my way to a comedy club in North London to do a gig and I was desperately lost. I found a police officer and he kindly escorted me to the club. Asking for my card to come and see one of my future gigs, I remembered a sudden moment of panic as I started to explain to the police man that I talk about an illegal ... time. The stolen smoked salmon. He reassured me, telling me I can't be rearrested and took my card with a genuine smile. To this day, I am still feeling slightly on edge.
The night before that, I had been on what was possibly the most perfect date I had ever been on. Cocktails, laughter, and loads in common - followed by a 24oz rare steak. For those who know me, being taken for steak is nothing but heaven to me. Another cocktail to follow, then an interruption of my date's girlfriend walking into the bar and punching him in the face. You just couldn't make it up could you?
So, back to the hospital. I'm suddenly being told that I have to have an emergency operation before this infection in my mouth spreads. OK...
My bum is cold as it sticks out of the backless theatre gown. I'm drowsy from the medication and I'm now about to be put under general anaesthetic - after signing the papers which proves if I die, I did indeed let theses strangers put this into my helpless body. While I was under I had vivid dreams about having sex with a man sized domestic cat with a Spanish accent. I wake up with the oxygen mask on and blood in my mouth and a very annoying sound in my ear. The sound of a homosexual Spanish man shouting "Wakey wakey darling" at me. I was not impressed. He insisted on coming into my room every four hours also shouting "Wakey wakey!!!" even when I was awake and cringing, plumping my pillows and moving the TV too far away for me to see. I was happy to leave after a mere 72 hours.
Right now, this very moment, I'm feeling pretty down. I have had to cancel thee comedy gigs due to recovering. I've been cooped up in my small flat and to top it off, it's coming up to Christmas. I can already feel the green hairs starting to grow from my skin. Next month's blog you will be reading a blog from The Grinch, NOT Naomi Hefter.. Looking forward to hearing from you in 2014.