Some surnames have a lot of history to them. They stem from the days when people were named after their trade. Cooper, Baker, Farmer, Smith are good examples. Some people have surnames that seem to fit their disposition or maybe their surname helped shape their outlook. Smiley, Able, Kindley. About seven years ago I came across someone, a Merriman, who proved to be the complete opposite of their surname. I never worked out if it was a deliberate rebellion, simple irony or both.
In the last month I’ve come across someone whose surname and associated activities definitely does what it says on the tin. My oncologist, who is a very nice person (and I suspect the subject of some teasing at Med school) is a Churn.
I dutifully spent my recent consultation explaining in full Technicolor Dolby surround sound that FEC1 was, in fact, mother of all churns. After 15 fec-ing hours feeling more nauseated than if I’d indulged in 8 Guinnesses, a bottle of red wine, a couple of Cointreau’s, poppadums, chicken dhansak and a peshwari naan, I was pretty fec-ing certain my anti-sickness drugs weren’t working. And I felt cheated. I didn’t get the (mostly) enjoyable progression from relaxed -> talkative -> lively -> happy -> merry -> very merry -> ecstatic -> unhinged -> passed-out-on-the-bathroom-floor. I just got very, very sick.