24 May 2014 (Saturday) - 40th Party
Despite CPAP technology blasting air up my nostrils at huricane force and despite the soporific effects of six pints of Doombar (supplimented by a couple of bottles of light ale) I was wide awake and watching boobie-dumplings annd weeners in "Game of Thrones" shortly after 5am this morning.
I was on the G.P.s doorstep as they opened at 8.30am. The reason I don't sleep is because I have sleep apnoea; I stop breathing whilst I'm asleep. I do that because I can't breath because my nasal passages bung up. The CPAP machine does its best, but it is only palliative. The cure for my problem is to have an E.N.T. surgeon rebore the bit from the top of my conk to the back of my throat. I told the G.P. that on 29 November. She sent me to the sleep clinic (which was all very good) and the sleep clinic agreed with me. They actually wrote to the G.P. andd said I should be referred to an E.N.T. surgeon. The G.P. claimed never to have seen that letter. Fortunately the sleep clinic had sent me a copy, so I gave a copy of the copy to the G.P. today, and reminded them that under NHS guidelines and standards I could expect to see an E.N.T. surgeon within six months of my first approaching the G.P. I also reminded them that they had five days left, and three of those were in a long Bank Holiday weekend.
I don't like being rude and obnoxious, but sometimes being "Mr Nice Guy" just doesn't work.
"Robin Huss" arrived, and we made our way to the Brookfield Road cafe where we met up with Sarah and Steve, and (after having done a tour of Ashford) by Terry and Irene as well. We all had a rather good fry-up. You can't beat a good fry-up after a night on the beer.
It was really good to meet up with friends we see all too infrequently; but goodbyes were said, and then Steve and I went down to the Denverarium to put up the astro club's new event shelter. I say "new"; it arrived last October and has stayed in the bag in one of the lock-ups until now. We got the thing up in a surprisingly short period of time. It looks good; I'm pleased with it.
It was then time for this week's sax lesson. Teacher seems reasonably pleased with my progress; this week we've broached the tricky subject of E-sharp and the little finger. And with sax lesson saxed we went up town for a little bit of shopping. Whilst there a thunderstorm hit, and we did our good samaritan bit. A wheelchair-bound little old lady was trying to get a taxi home. Every taxi driver refused to take her, and left her in the torrential rain. It was more than their jobs were worth to take someone in a wheelchair (apparently), so we gave her a lift to Kennington. We came home via posh shopping in Sainsburys and a flying visit to "Pets at Home" for dog requisites.
Once home we had coffee and cake for tea; being still rather stuffed from the earlier fry-up. I checked out the internet; I lost count of the comments about "typical English weather" which had been prompted by half an hour of rain. Has everyone really forgotten the glorious weather we've had recently?
And then it was back down to Park Farm for a fortieth birthday party. Ale was sunk, insults bandied... two consective evenings of excess; can't be bad...