10 November 2021 (Wednesday) - Another Day Off


 Despite a rather aching back I slept very well last night, which was something of a result. I came downstairs and spent a few minutes looking at the amazingly clean fish tank. It did look good… I really should have a go at it more often. It looks so much better for a little attention – and the little fish deserve it too.

 

I sparked up the lap-top and peered into the Internet as I scoffed brekkie. It was still there, Overnight a posting had appeared on one of the local Facebook pages about an incident which happened at three o’clock in the morning a few days ago. Some youngsters were seen supposedly assaulting another, and the local neighbourhood watch organiser had posted about it starting with  Still trying to pin point these youths”… I can’t help but think that had the person who saw this contacted the police right away rather than posting to a Facebook argument site a few hours later, then (just possibly) the guilty might have been caught.

With absolutely nothing at all seeming to have happened in cyber-space I got dressed and took the dogs out.

 

As we drove to the woods Sajid Javid (the Health Secretary) was being interviewed on the radio. Having been asked about the practicality of his brainwave to force all NHS staff to have COVID vaccinations he simply didn’t answer any question put to him. He was equally reticent with questions about ongoing sleaze allegations levelled at several Conservative MPs who seem to be getting a year’s salary for a day’s work.

 

We got to the woods and had a good walk. Pogo barked at quite a few sparrows (for no reason I could fathom). As we walked we met the little old lady with the poodle and the Jack Russell. She commented on me having changed my car, which made me think. Today was only the fourth time I’d taken the new car to  the woods and she knew I had a new car. In the past people at work had commented on my having a blue Renault scenic. In all honesty I have absolutely no idea what car most people drive. If pushed I could probably tell the colour of maybe three of four people’s cars. Does everyone but me know all about everyone else’s cars?

 

With walk walked we came home. I settled the dogs and went out on a little mission. Firstly to Hastings. I stopped off at the farm shop in Ickelsham where I got some cakes, and Dad and I scoffed them as I visited; I’d not been down to see him for a while and he was keen to see the new car. The car got his seal of approval, and then he showed me his garden. It has been dug up by foxes. He’s watched them doing it. An aunt has an idea that she can get some lion poo which will scare of the foxes. If it was anyone else I would roll my eyes with a “yeah, right!” but I would not be at all surprised to see that aunt come up with a job lot of lion poo.

 

From Dad’s I came back to Ashford then had a little drive around. For all that I’ve lined the car’s boot, the lip of the boot needs a cover pulling over it each time the dogs go in and out. They have been in and out half a dozen times and they don’t understand the need for a cover. The nice man at the Skoda garage says they can fit a firm plastic cover to protect the paintwork, and he quoted a price which was about half that which I expected him to quote. He’s ordered the part.

The next thing to do was to batten down the boot cover thingy which was blocking up the view out of the rear window (as the thing came half way up the dog grille). All I needed to sort it was two humungous paper clips to hold it down. I could get them from any decent stationery shop so I drove round to Staples… only to find it had shut down about a year ago. It’s amazing what happens when you aren’t playing attention.

I popped next door to Home Bargains to see if they had paper clips. I think it fair to say that the chap I asked didn’t even know what a paper clip was. Fortunately Sainsburys had some.

 

And then I went for a blood test… before I get more nasal surgery I have to get a scan of my sinuses done. This involves having a contrast medium injected, and we have to be sure my kidneys are up to shifting this contrast medium… hence the blood test.

As I sat and waited to be called in I almost laughed out loud at the sign I read on the phlebotomy department’s door. It mentioned not going inside until invited as this “can impact on patient confidentiality”. If this is an issue (which it is!), why has the hospital put their phlebotomy waiting area in the hospital’s (very busy) foyer where the world and his wife can see who is waiting for a blood test? I don’t know if not-so-nice-next-door saw me, but if she didn’t that was more through luck than judgement . And if being seen waiting for a blood test isn’t enough, the phlebotomists have to bellow out the names of the next patient to make themselves heard over the ambient noise (which was so loud as to be rather painful). Several acquaintances smiled at me as I waited for the needle..   So much for patient confidentiality, eh?

I’ve not only removed the name of the NHS Trust in question from the photo, but also the name of the person who authorised that sign about patient confidentiality. However that person is someone who is on my Facebook list and was one of my trainees many years ago. I sent her a message expressing my chagrin, and words don’t exist to express the disappointment I felt when she replied in management-talk rather than in English.

 

Suitably needled I came home and spent the afternoon on the sofa watching episodes of “Four In A Bed” whilst cuddling dogs. Today’s episodes of “Four In A Bed” were more entertaining than usual. With five minutes till bed-time, one set of contestants announced that they couldn’t stay in a certain B&B because of the overpowering smell of vomit in their room. They then left, and all the other contestants went to the room in question where no one could smell anything. That made for a good argument.

“er indoors TM” eventually came home and we watched the first few episodes of “The Cockfields” on UK Gold. Featuring her from “Alan Partridge”, “Betty” from Frank Spencer and Rab C Nesbitt himself, they was rather good. As were the three bottles of ale I sank whilst watching them.

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