Living with Edina Monsoon

I'm the sole carer to the real life Edina Monsoon.  A woman who subcribes to every trend that arises, a self proclaimed Buddhist and a feng shui enthusiast who aspires to move in the highest circles of creativity, fashion and celebrity.  A woman who cannot allow a drink to pass her lips unless it costs more than a months rent and most importantly a woman who is only happy when all eyes are on her. 

I recently had some respite and left the country for a while.  I was away for no longer than a day before I recieved a text to say I had to rush home as she needed a vodka pourer.  This was followed by numerous requests to return because

A)  She was bored
B)  She was lonely
C) She needed her slave to come home

Finally I recieved a text to say that she was ill, only then I decided I should check in on her.  Although I did have a worrying suspicion that as I had ignored all previous requests she had inherited Munchausen syndrome and was at the height of her attention seeking.  She explained that her symptoms were like being drunk without the benefits - I later learned she had vertigo.

After a few days of tests she was sent for an MRI scan.  Unfortunately the doctor told her immediately that she had a healthy brain, I was hoping for at least one quiet night... The results were met with plans for nights of champagne drinking, chocolate eating and anything else that she had worried she'd have to give up.  The doctor basically gave her a licence to drink more which quite frankly is not necessary at all.  I was hoping that at least once in her life she might leave a pub/club/party before they turned off the lights and kicked her out.

Now you'd think that the clear bill of health might help the symptoms somewhat.  You'd be wrong.  We had been in from the hospital for five minutes when I pointed out that she could take off the plaster given after her blood test:

Edina: You made me take my plaster off and now it hurts.  What happens if my arm starts leaking and falls off - Then you'll be sorry
Saffy: The plaster was not for pain relief, it was for the tiny spec of blood left after your blood test

Silence

E: I really want to wash my hair but the dizziness will make me fall over in the shower, I will knock my head and kill myself
S: Do you want me to wash it?
E: Nope I'm gonna wait until it self cleans like the people with dreadlocks

Silence

E:  I still might die.  The doctor might have been lying to me
S: Go to bed and stop moaning, I don't want to hear another word out of you until tomorrow
E: OK but you'll regret telling me off tomorrow when you find out I have diabetes

Silence... until I recieved a text from her that said 'LAST WORD'.

It isn't easy being Saffy.