Writer's cramp

Reluctantly I have to confess this problem to the beBee community. I’ve thought long and hard about this and realize that I have to get it off my chest. It concerns all of you – everyone of you with whom I’ve engaged. You see I have been diagnosed with beBee-itis. It appears that this condition has a poor prognosis. It continues relentlessly until it engulfs your entire being. It’s dopamine-based with a generous helping of oxytocin. Everyone of you is responsible for this malady which has robbed me of my individuality. You see, I lost ‘me’ in this golden honey collective! Of course the person most responsible is a certain Javier 🐝 beBee. Then there are the accomplices Gert Scholtz and a certain Gert Scholtz who convinced me to come across to this addictive space, which threatens to jeopardize my physical existence.

You may ask how it’s affecting my life? Well here’s the core of the problem – the more I engage the more I want to engage with you buggers. I’m banging away so much at the keyboard that I’m beyond writer’s cramp, beyond carpal tunnel syndrome (it’s in Google). I’m not sure if my hands even belong to me anymore (don’t let the patient’s know that – the one’s on the next surgical list!). My wife’s already complaining that she’s lost me to beBee (I think she’ll be looking for a non-beBee replacement soon). My anaesthesiologist is complaining that I’m taking too long to return to the OR between cases and I can’t refrain from telling friends and family what I read on beBee! I’m also told that I mumble ‘beBee’ in my sleep...

Who would have believed that at this mature age I would have been so wholly and totally zapped. So reluctantly, I have to go into ‘cold turkey’ (see Google) – this will have to be a final buzz for a while. In any event, it will be a tough week – work-wise and of course we have to clean up our urinalized consulting suite (we’ve become Uro-centric! See https://www.bebee.com/producer/@ian-weinberg/passing-water ). And then I’m off to visit the family in the land downunder – Ken Boddie 's and Jim Murray 's land (and other beBee's that I can't recall off the top of my head). There lives my daughter, son-in-law and gorgeous granddaughter - Jagger Mae. I’m eternally grateful and relieved that our children and grandchild got their looks from mom (my wife) and not me!

Talking about beBee, buzzes and things, just have to share this with you guys. Regard it as a lesson, a consequence of public writing.

Many years ago, when I was still a ravishing brunette, I had delusions of grandiose and wrote a novel. It had a strong autobiographical slant - to a point! The basic plot was centred around the main character, a neurosurgeon (who else?) who had a patient, wracked with pain and who was essentially dying with an incurable cancer. Of course I threw into the book all the required trimmings of the neurosurgeon staring into the eyes of gorgeous nursing sisters, wild sex with the daughter of another patient - the patient being of the orient and wife from London such that the fruits of their loins, the neurosurgeon’s carnal indulgence, was this gorgeous blonde, blue-eyed oriental bomb-shell!

The plot sickened however because the neurosurgeon came to an understanding with the dying patient to end her pain with assistance (euthanasia). While the deed was being perpetrated however, the main character was observed in the act by a certain very religious nursing sister who reported this event to the appropriate authorities (the patient died). And so our main character was arrested and charged with murder.

The second part of the book was the court case in which the entire subject of euthanasia (assisted death) was debated, for and against, at length. The conclusion: Our main character was found guilty of murder and sentenced to five years imprisonment.

I never published this work, but made five copies, retaining two for myself. One was sent to an agent for review and two were given to close colleagues.

Fast forward ten years. I get a call from a medical colleague in Cape Town who wishes to meet with me about my pioneering work in PNI (psychoneuro-immunology). This colleague has never been to Johannesburg (where I live) for fear of becoming a victim of serious crime (fair amount of it here). So I assure him that I’ll protect him and keep him safe. After picking him up at the airport, I promptly take him on a drive through Johannesburg, not leaving out the ‘hottest’ areas. We survived without bullet holes in the windscreen! While we’re driving, my colleague turns to me and asks “ Was it difficult to return to practice?”

I have no idea what he’s referring to. So I ask, “ What do you mean by ’returning to practice'?”

“Weren’t you imprisoned for five years after euthanasing a terminal patient?”

I was dumb-struck! I hadn’t thought of that book for years. How the hell did he come by this information. He’s answer flattened me. One of the copies of my self-published book had found its way into one of the University libraries. It was a reference work!!!

I spent most of the remaining time convincing my colleague that the book was a work of pure fiction. There is a message in this: Be aware of whatever you’ve written. You are in the words and you alone are accountable!

Here’s wishing you all a great week. beBee rules ..... sorry Honey!