Proper bedside manner for dealing with an aristocrat

A recent physical accident and subsequent period of mandatory bedrest lead me to create a list of dos and do nots for the care and feeding of one's aristocrat, be they a friend, lover, or someone who's favor you are desperately trying to get into. Here I will record the proper way to deal with a sick and/or injured aristocrat, with all their finicky and hypochondriac issues.

1. NEVER leave the aristocrat alone. Don't even think about it. If you must, arrange shifts between you and your frinds/neighbors, but do not give the aristocrat any unsupervised time*. This may seem invasive, but it prevents the aristocrat's high strung and panic prone personality from getting a chance to convince them that they're dying/going to be permanently crippled/afflicted with some bizarre ailment.

*While they must never be left alone, neither must you always have them engaged in conversation. The point is that the aristocrat never has a chance to brood deeply.

2. Do not discuss potential complications of the injuries/disease within earshot of the aristocrat. If they hear you, they WILL psychosomatically develop the symptoms, and when they do they will flip out and only get worse.

3. Even more so, DO NOT discuss potential mental/psychological issues around the aristocrat, because if you think they can break out in a rash or suffer phantom itches quickly, that's nothing compared to their ability to mimic virtually any psychosis. No sooner will you have said 'paranoid schizophrenia', than they will babble word salad at you and become convinced they're Jesus.

4. If you must talk medicine to the aristocrat, do not use long, complicated words. This rule is especially pointed at doctors. If you do speak medical jargon to them, the aristocrat is quite likely to have *just* enough knowledge of what you mean to assume the worst, and their response will be melodramatic to say the least. Also, never bother with telling them about complications/side-effects (see rule 2).

5. Keep the aristocrat comfortable and remind them they are going to be okay. Doing so will earn you a friend for life who will repay your gift of a fleece blanket with a sable stole, and who will stand by you through any crisis. Ignoring an injured aristocrat leads to resentment on their part and, if the aristocrat can arrange it, your suffering of a serious mishap during which they will refuse you any and all aid.

6. In conjunction with rule one, do not allow the aristocrat to brood, surf the internet in search of the cause of their symptoms (it only leads them to become convinced that they are infected with ebola,), or otherwise focus on their sickness/injury.

Bracing for winter

Oh yes, readers. It's that time of year. Winter is champing at the bit, though current permutations of weather have been keeping it at bay. I know, however, that this wet but snow-free weather can't last, and it's always these sorts of rain storms that create the build-up for the nastiest ice you can possibly imagine (I've mentioned this before - it's hard as a rock, and a master at camoufloge under snow. I've nearly knocked my teeth out on several occasions thanks to it). So while I have the chance I'm frantically dragging together a decent array of clothes that will bear out the winter, and feeling more and more peeved at how few long-sleeved tops I have. The one benefit of the drop in temperature is the fact that I can now wear a corset without fear of heat-stroke, but it's a small benefit in comparison to the months of hell I'm expecting.

To make matters more complex, I'm also heading into finals week and the Bosch painting that is christmas shopping. The endless torment of trying to balance school and what to get who will send me to my grave years early, I swear. So I blow off steam with my research (thank God for interesting paper topics) and going to town with my friends. Which of course lead to their own stressors as I finish papers and try to piece together snappy outfits on short notice *left eye twitches spasmodially till the aristocrat holds it still.*

So be patient with me, dear readers. Things will get back on track as soon as I can swing it.
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....................I'm off to expire, now.