I was a little later than usual getting up today. I went downstairs to find “My Boy TM ” in the kitchen. For once he hadn’t woken the world with his noise. When I commented on the fact, he said that he thought everyone was already up. If that’s not an admission of excessive racket on his part, I’d like to know what is.
The morning’s post brought a letter arrived from HMP Slade. “Norman Stanley’s“ littlun’s birthday was yesterday. It’s missing things like that which seem to upset him more than any of the discomforts of prison life.
To the doctor to get my knee sorted out. Whenever I walk downstairs, my right knee joint makes a horrible grinding sound. I’m sure it shouldn’t do that. As soon as I told the doc what the problem was, he told me to take my trousers off and lie on the couch. That was a result – he’s a fast mover is my doctor. He mauled my leg about, and then said to put my trousers back on. Oh well, it was good whilst it lasted. He then weighed me, and told me I was overweight. I wondered how many years he’d spent at medical school to come up with that. He also did my blood pressure which was 140/80. The 80 bit is good, but the 140 is a bit iffy.
He sent me for an X-ray, which was a bit dull. Whilst the doc couldn’t get my kex off quick enough, the fit X-ray bird wasn’t having any of it. Sensible girl, I suppose. She positioned me at all sorts of rakish angles and zapped me with radiation (she gets paid for that). And then she said I should give the doc a ring in a week or so for the results. If the X ray shows anything, once I’ve lost some weight I might need surgery. If the X ray is clear, once I’ve lost some weight I might get physiotherapy.
It was at this point that I began to detect a pattern. I bemoaned my fate at work with some fellow porkers, and a podge-a-thon has been declared. A podge-a-thon is a bit like a diet, but there’s less fiddling about with calories. During a podge-a-thon, normal rules do not apply, and “salad” becomes a legitimate food item. Provided it’s curried. I’m currently weighing in at 109 kilos (or 17 stone 2 pounds in proper weight) and I need to get down to…. Well, I’ve no idea really. On the Internet it says 12 stone. I can’t see that happening, somehow. I shall just cut out all meat, bread and potatoes and see if my knee is still hurting and making a noise at the end of a month. I had this plan to start cycling to work to lose weight, but I’m not sure if it will play my knee up. Oh well, I’ll give it a go and see what happens.
Bearing in mind the need to lose weight rather urgently, I went to work today with a sackful of cakes and sweeties. The occasion warranted it – today marks twenty five years since I started working at St. Elsewhere’s Hospital. Twenty five years. The original plan had me staying at the place for three years to get my higher qualifications and then moving on. But then family happened, and now I can’t find anything else to do which pays as well. Oh well, bearing in mind I worked at “Hastings Infirmary for the Halt and the Lame” for three years as well, I can get my NHS pension in twelve years time.
I hope my knee will hold out that long…..