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Day 7 Going Home

It’s incredible how quickly a hospital room and medical team become the centre of your universe. Nurses congregate in my room each night for MasterChef, Gerry has set up a technology and media centre around my bed (including 6 points for Bose headsets for the telly), and discussions have been initiated with management about making a few small tweaks to Prada-up the staff uniforms. It’s my own little beautiful private universe. There are few things in life more delicious than Going Private.

Going Private infiltrates every aspect of life these days, accessible at all different levels. The pinnacle being the American Express invitation-only Centurion Card (colloquially referred to as The Black Card) and Private Members Clubs of England. I’m not exactly sitting by the phone waiting for the call from American Express (unless 1,000,000 people suddenly signup as followers for Tweed, Tea and Wellies™, publishers turn it into a book, then Hollywood releases the movie, starring Audrey Tautou playing me, which ultimately wins an Oscar), so the next closest on the Going Private Bucket List is being a member of a quintessential Private Club in London. Being neither rich nor titled, the usual prerequisite for entry, I was lucky to have the next best thing; a sister who is the General Manager for just such a club in New Zealand...Read more...