29 July 2014 (Tuesday) - Making a Complaint
As it wasn't so hot last night the bedroom window stayed closed for the first time in a while. And for the first time in a while we had no nocturnal woofing fits. I wonder if the two were in any way connected. Mind you "Furry Face TM" seemed very subdued yesterday evening and he didn't get up for toast this morning.
As I scoffed all of my toast this morning I watched the latest installment of the documentary about Royal Marine Commandoes. There seems to be a load of shouting for no real reason at soldier school.
I spent a litle while solving a geo-puzzle for no other reason than that I could, and then set off to work. A relatively uneventful journey, and there was absolutely nothing memorable on the radio.
I hadn't been at work long when I had a phone call. Yesterday I complained about how long it was taking to get a date for the surgical re-bore of my nose. Today I had a rather snotty call from a rather snottier receptionist telling me not to make complaints. There are (apparently) thirty four more urgent cases than mine awaiting the knife, and was told (in no uncertain terms) to wait quietly until the snotty receptionist decides to make an appointment for me. "Snotty" then announced that I need an anaesthetic review and she's told me that it will be in two weeks time. I got the distinct impression that this is nothing but a delaying tactic on her part to prove that it is she who will decide the timetable of my operation.
I'm rather confused by all this. On the one hand I have a consultant ENT surgeon telling me I need urgent surgery by the end of August. On the other hand the one making the appointments for the surgery will do so in her own sweet time. And I can't complain; I've been told not to.
Sax practice went relatively well. I'm learning a very well-known jazz tune at the moment. I have no idea what the name of it is; it's that one that goes "da-da-da-da-de-dah-de-dah-dah". I've mostly got it right; just a tricky B-flat/C-sharp transition to master. Mind you on the way back into waork after sax practice I met yet another twit. This one was ranting at me about why all the signs directing people around the hospital are inside the building. Why does no one think about those people who want to find their way around the hospital from the outside? I smiled sweetly at the nice lady, suggested she asked a member of staff, and ran away.
"Furry Face TM" enjoyed his walk this evening; apart from running into a fence whilst chasing a cat the walk passed off mostly without incident.
Being Tuesday the clans gathered in Queen Street. We scoffed ice cream, guzzled lemonade, bandied insults, watched ironing being done, and after a mistaken download (oo-er!) I fell asleep whilst everyone else watched Star Trek Voyager...