Musings on life and a drabble
I feel rather guilty. My mum called to tell me all about her job and the interview she has and I spent most of it just nodding and making the appropriate noise every now and again - I wasn't actually listening. She's reminded me I need to renew my passport... personally, I can't actually be bothered to do so. I have no plans to leave the country, I'm terrified of aeroplanes and family holidays are (with my family anyway) more painful than dental surgery. I suppose I should renew just in case.
I e-mailed her the other day with a suggestion of what I'd like for my birthday (the BSJ on CD-Rom, or a subscription) but she doesn't want to get that. She wants to get me something that I can 'keep' (i.e a watch, but I stopped her with that. Much as I love clocks I already have a watch and I don't ever wear a smart watch for occasions), or perhaps help me get onto the housing ladder. *ARGH* I'm only going to be 21! I have no plans to be a home owner until I am earning a salary! I can't afford to be a home owner on £274 a week! I need to be classed as full-time and have a salary before I even consider it! I may change my mind if this year I get a charge-hand position, but that seems unlikely.
She's still fretting over who to give my grandmothers engagement ring to. She wants to keep it in the blood line so doesn't want to give it to my brother (!!), but if he gets married and has a little girl she'll consider it then. My brother is only 17 and presently doesn't have a girlfriend so it's mildly amusing that my mum is already envisioning his married life.
Thanks to discussions last night about Watson and a possible drinking problem (along with Lestrade's home life) I am being plagued by plot hedgehogs. Fortunately I don't think I'll be attempting the story of Holmes agreeing to give up his cocaine if Watson admits he has a drinking problem - it could be how Watson got Holmes to stop. I struggle writing 'serious' stuff, which doesn't really hold well for my real life does it? Perhaps I'm just fated to find the humour in things.
I'm debating going food shopping now or waiting until I pick up my laundry at 6pm. Two trips or one? Ummm... Can't actually decide what to have for my dinner - beef & lentil casserole or spicy beef stir-fry. (Apologies to the vegans/vegetarians on my flist). I suppose it's going to end up a question of how hungry I am - the casserole takes an hour to cook, whereas a stir-fry is relatively quick. OOh, the choices!
Actually I'm lying slightly over not writing anything serious at the moment - thanks to a discussion about morphine and whether it was used as a 'cure' for homosexuality I did some research and the only things I could find were the suggestion that morphine was used to 'cure' masturbation. Perhaps Holmes was prescribed morphine for that...
Title: (i.e. I couldn't think of one, help!)
Rating: 12
Synopsis: Holmes comes clean about the cocaine
Sources: 'The Book of Weird Sex' by Chris Gordon
It was early evening and Holmes, much to my displeasure, had been indulging his addiction. I always dreaded the quiet times between cases, there was nothing much I could do to convince him otherwise. Why did he use that infernal substance? Something about his manner told me that he wasn't being entirely truthful with the explanation that it 'clarified his mind'. I had nothing to loose by asking.
"Holmes, can I ask you something very personal?"
"You can ask." He responded. His eye lids heavy as he gazed into the fire.
"Very well... I want to know why you were drawn to cocaine."
"I've told you why."
"Don't give me that ridiculous answer about it clarifying your mind! The truth, Holmes."
"I am telling the truth."
"No, you're avoiding the truth."
"Watson..."
I leaned forward in my chair, my hands clasped. "Holmes, we've known each other almost ten years. I'd like to think that you do at least trust me."
"I trust you implicitly."
"Then tell me."
"Doctor..."
"Or shall I tell you?"
"Pardon?"
I cleared my throat. "Cocaine is often prescribed as cure for morphine addiction. I have witnessed you taking both drugs, although morphine only rarely and I haven't seen you use if a good number of years. That suggests to me Holmes," I gestured with my hands in his direction, "that there is a medical connection."
"Ah, applying my methods - observation and deduction. I congratulate you Watson."
"Stop avoiding the issue. Am I right?"
"Yes you're quite right. Cocaine was suggested to me as a means of curing my morphine addiction."
"And why were you using morphine? An injury?" He shifted in his chair. "Or something a little more personal."
"Dear me, your observational powers are in perfect order tonight!" He took out his pipe and placed it between his lips before lighting it. "Yes, it was for a more personal reason."
"Tell me about it, the circumstances."
"Very well." He threw the spent match into the fire and settled back in his chair, the blue rings of smoke rising and curling around his features. "When I was seventeen, my father caught me... indulging myself. He beat me and dragged me to the church, where a priest heard my confession and pronounced judgement. I was a wicked abhorrent boy and doomed for the fires of hell unless I changed my sinful ways. Once back home, I father again set about beating me - he broke my right arm before Mycroft, thankfully home on a visit from university - stepped in. He appealed to my mother, he said that the best course of action was medical treatment. I think at the time he thought it was for the best."
"And you were taken to a doctor."
"Yes. I have no doubt that you have been presented with such cases."
"I have, and I always turn them away. I don't agree that masturbation is a sin or harmful, I used to until we startd to work together and
you told me to look at facts. The fact is I cannot find any solid piece of medical information that proves ill effects, there are
suggestions and implications, but no facts. The publication 'Onania' suggesting that masturbation was Onan's sin and to base modern medical practices on the suggestions of that quack is frankly, absurd."
"I commend you, Watson, for your conviction as a physician and your knowledge of medical history."
I ignored his comment. "So... you were... subjected to an examination?"
"Oh yes. And treatment was advised."
I was well aware of the so-called medical treatments recommended in such circumstances. I had even been taught their proper application whilst at medical school. The practice sickened me. "Oh, Holmes."
"You did once enquire as to why I am circumcised, if I recall I never answered you. The doctor suggested a preventative device to be attached to... well, so... my foreskin was pulled forward and four holes were drilled through it. Through the holes metal wiring was attached and sealed with wax..." He stopped and stared thoughtfully at the carpet.
"Good God." How could he be so calm discussing such a... barbaric act?
"I suppose it did it's job, I didn't touch myself... although I was rendered incapable of movement or action whenever I inadvertently became aroused. It was humiliating. After several months, I appealed to Mycroft for help. He took pity on me and had a doctor friend removed the device and... well, he had to remove the foreskin. This fellow prescribed morphine as his 'cure' and that's when I became an addict."
"You poor man..." I was full of sympathy for him, such an operation is carried out without any form of pain relief. I had observed once such 'fitting' whilst studying, the screams of the young boy had haunted me for some time.
"Strangely Watson, I never did trust my mother again. We had always enjoyed a cordial relationship, but she allowed... It's not something you can easily forgive."
"I'm surprised you trust doctors."
"I trust you. It doesn't mean that I trust others."
"I'm so truly sorry."
"Oh don't. You have nothing to be sorry for, you were never involved."
"No, I'm sorry I asked the question."
"The past is the past, we can't change it. I can't change what happened to me, and neither can you. I wonder what those doctors would think if they found out that not only do I still masturbate but I am engaged in a rather energetic sexual relationship with another man. Perhaps you could write an article for the medical journal."
Excellent article - 'The Secret Code of Toad'. I didn't know that Kenneth Grahame's son committed suicide, poor bloke.
Most amusing article with some wonderful observations about man.
A handbag for £23, 484! *mind boggles*
An eight year old boy who weights 14 stone may be put into care. How can anyone let their child get that overweight??! He's broken four beds.
There's a very random article in my PC Zone magazine about fanfiction.