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This is María Paz.

You may remember that she dropped everything to come with me to the hospital on Monday after receiving a frantic last minute phone call from me when I found out Flor couldn’t make it. And so she was with me when I had the awful appointment with the oncologist and she was very supportive – at least I knew that I wasn’t just being oversensitive and that the insults were not imagined. Another positive thing that came out of that hospital visit was that I vowed I was not going to let Dr Ana get the better of me again in May simply because my Spanish is rusty and, especially when nervous, it takes me some time to put my thoughts and palabras together.

And so yesterday I called up María Paz and asked if she’d be interested in having English classes with me. She said she’d love to but it would depend on how much they’d cost. When I told her the cost would be an hour of her time once a week having Spanish conversation with me she was delighted. And so am I. The past couple of years I’ve barely spoken any Spanish, and I’ve always been better at understanding than speaking anyhow (those damn verbs!), which I realised on Monday was a situation I want and need to rectify.

We start today…

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