Cameron: "She's got a new symptom!"So, to wile away the time, I've been reading the true story of a real tragedy, "Il était une joie" by Bernard Durand. I met him during the book launch and was deeply moved on hearing of the loss of his youngest son aged 17.
House: "Write it on the board, Cameron."
Cameron writes 'Conjunctivitus' on the board.
House: *Sharp intake of breath* "Put her on 100ml of blahblahblahXYZ and 20g of morphine! This is getting nasty..."
It's taken until now for me to get round to reading the book. It's not one that you'd pick up for a light-hearted 10-minute dip and I needed to be in a suitable frame of mind to attack it. Being fed up with my woolly head and general state of disrepair plus having the opportunity was the perfect set of circumstances.
I'm not that far through, but it makes sombre yet impressive reading. Here's a family; a good family with two parents, four lovely intelligent children, a loving, caring environment torn asunder by the untimely death of Jérémie. He was riding his scooter with his cousin one night when a 4x4 driven by a drunkard ran them down from behind. Despite all the scooter lights on, and safety helmets, the driver "didn't see them" and they had no chance, especially when another drunkard driving a 106 came up behind and dragged one of the bodies 100m down the road only stopping when it was too caught up to go further. The boys showed neither alcohol nor drugs in their blood.
They were decent lads; ones with a good future to look forward to, ones who knew how to love and be loved, who knew the meaning of responsibility, honour and integrity. Why is it that it's these boys who got mown down, and not some petty, mean-minded little voyou? It's something that really incenses me with this world. People talk about 'karma', but there are lots of bad people living perfectly happy bad lives causing havoc around them with their hate, but who go through life untouched by disaster.
Then you have children who would be the next set of the country's leaders; ones it so desperately needs, who have lead blameless lives full of joy until suddenly killed before they even have a chance to fulfil their potential. Leaving the Earth with an excess of the dross.
What a waste.