mjj (flemmings) wrote,
mjj
flemmings

A longtime ambition has been achieved. Not that I knew it was a longtime ambition until I achieved it, but still.

So I was referred to a specialist at Toronto General Hospital, which may be less of a warren than it was when mentally confused patients regularly wandered off their wards and were discovered, dead, in unused stairwells, but is still a warren because half of it is, literally, Mars. But that's by the way. A helpful Indian woman set me straight, and I left Mars and walked down the block to discover the facade of the Eaton Building nestled prettily among hills and bright yellow autumn trees. The hills have been landscaped and it is, yes, pretty, but also a hike from the street. These architects...

But this is still by the way. The specialist I'm seeing is English and we start getting into symptoms and history and 'how long have you's and he says at one point, 'So when you were a child in England' and I say 'England?' and he says 'You're not English?' and I say, beaming, 'You're literally the first English person I've ever met who thinks I am.' Americans, yes, all the time, and even some Canadians (because I call the place To-ron-to and not Trawna), but up to now the English have always recognized their own, and known that I'm not it.

(In fact, just recently I was thinking that my accent has flattened out over the years and is much more Trawntonyan than in my youth. There's still hope.)
Tags: language, rl_15
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