Of cabbages and kings

The doorman at our fabulous hotel in Dubai didn’t blink. A couple of shopping bags with a few items of clothing (the inevitable spoils of an afternoon off on a work trip in the UAE) – and a cabbage.

Going shopping in Dubai is – well, many things. Firstly, it’s terrifyingly easy and tempting, because it’s about the only other thing to do besides work, eat or sleep. The malls are veritable temples of consumerism. As Karen put it, they’re inhabited by small shoe-like creatures that are very tame and will follow you home if you let them. Secondly, it’s hair-raising. There’s a fixed ratio of about three near-death experiences per ten minutes spent in a cab. (Moral: find a mall that’s less than a ten minute drive away from your hotel.) Thirdly, it’s entertaining. Once your driver has navigated his way past the near-death experience, he will let rip with a diatribe invoking the kings of all the emirates. Considering all this, I think I got off fairly lightly. Didn’t die, didn’t get attacked by undomesticated shoes. Didn’t bankrupt self or anyone else (more than can be said for the emirati of Dubai!!). And found a cabbage.

I had to move several tins of Coke and soda aside in the well-stocked minibar in my room in order to refrigerate the leafy head. I’m away on business for the first time since K was born, and part of my plan (apart from mapping out a major publishing project) was to segue away from breastfeeding. I figured that as K only breastfeeds intermittently in the evenings, it would be pretty straightforward to let the milk supply dwindle away over my week overseas. I hadn’t quite realised how productive I was. Two days into the trip I had torpedo-like bosoms so sensitive that the lightest thing brushing past was agony.  From a variety of sources in both hemispheres, I’ve heard the common wisdom that cold cabbage leaves alleviate this particular condition. Now seemed as good a time as any to try.

Today’s day three away from home. I’m missing K like anything. Work’s going very well, so far. The stabbing pains from my unabated milk supply are abating, but slowly. The cabbage seems to help, but I suspect that cold facecloths might do just as well.

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About Lisa

I live in South Africa with my husband and two small children, doing things, thinking about things and sometimes writing about them.
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3 Responses to Of cabbages and kings

  1. Lara says:

    What lofty heights that cabbage has risen to – the luxuries of the very breast of Dubai …

  2. Adam says:

    Would hand-expressing not do the trick?

  3. Lisa says:

    Hand-expressing is more painful and unpleasant than it sounds (especially when you’re used to fairly easy, pleasant breastfeeding, which is how it is after this long), and didn’t make much difference, no. And the second I was back, one yelp from Kolya and there was milk spilling in all directions. I think I’m going to have to bite the bullet and get some medication to dry it up.

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