I wasn’t allowed anything to eat or drink this morning so I skipped the telly and went straight to the Internet. As always my Facebook feed was filled with posts of dead dogs. I’ve joined a few dog-related pages on there, and more and more postings are from people saying that their dog died. The dog sites are supposed to be fun, and they are just depressing. I then had another little melt-down about Fudge (I get those most days).
There were also a few people trying to sell milk shakes on-line as some sort of a diet. The same thing was supposed to aid in weight loss and weight gain. How does that work?
I then spent a little while going through my emails and unsubscribing from all the emails that I just delete unopened. There were quite a few. I also saw I had an email from SpecSavers telling me it was time for my eye test. Bearing in mind I had a week off sick with double vision after their last effort, did they really think I would be going back to them?
And so off on a journey I used to take quite a lot. I worked at the Kent and Canterbury hospital for quite a few years and the A28 was never a good road. With speed limit changing every mile or so (and no one taking any notice of it) there were still just as many temporary traffic lights along its length. And the junction of the A28 with the A252 was as horrendous as ever. But I saw that the relevant authorities have taken steps. There were signs up saying that the junction has a poor record for traffic collisions. I read that as saying “We know there is a problem and we are ignoring it”. And the roads round Nunnery Fields were every bit as bad as I remembered them.
I got to the car park which I could always remember as being full to capacity with queues to get in, and was pleasantly surprised to find plenty of spaces. I was also pleasantly surprised to see that my car’s fuel gauge had started working. With the trip reader telling me I’d gone two hundred miles since re-fuelling, the fuel gauge needle had finally moved off of the “full” level and the range it felt it could do until re-fuelling had dropped..
It wasn’t long before I was in the waiting area for the CT scan department. There were two or three patients, and half a dozen hangers-on (as is always the way). I sat and read my Kindle app until I was called in. Or “out” to be precise. The nice lady called my name, told me I was hers (result!) and took me outside to a large shipping container in the car park. The CT scanner (and two more members of staff) were in this container. (I’ve noticed that quite a few hospitals have the CT scanners in shipping containers outside. Why is that?)
I confirmed who I was, answered a few questions and laid down on the scanner’s bed thingy. The nice radiographer stuck a needle in my arm, injected something or other, and the CT scanner made a noise like an arthritic helicopter. Just at the point when I thought the machine was going to do explode it suddenly stopped, and the nice lady told me that it was all done and that I could go home.
I don’t honestly know what I was expecting from a CT scan, but quite frankly I had been expecting more, and was rather disappointed. I made all the staff laugh when I told them so.
Co-incidentally Facebook reminded me that I had a CT scan five years ago yesterday. Looking back I think that was something of an anti-climax too.
I came home and collected the dogs and we drove down to Orlestone Woods. Pogo had a few woofing fits. One was at some dogs in the distance; the others were barking for barking’s sake. I wish he wouldn’t do that. But the protective rubber strip over the back bumper seemed to do the trick. Paw prints are now on that and not on the paintwork.
We came home and by the time I’d fiddled about and made toast the morning was gone. I had a quick shower and went off to bed for the afternoon. I slept as well as I could with a dog snoring on either side.
After a few hours I got up and caught up with CPD. I rather suspect I do far too much of the stuff, but I’d rather do too much than not enough. Every year five per cent of blood testers have their CPD efforts formally reviewed, and I live in terror of that happening to me.
“er indoors TM” will be home soon. I’m hoping she will boil up some dinner, then I am off to the night shift. I expect I’ll go via Sainsbury’s as shower gel, peanut butter and red wine doesn’t buy itself.
I wonder if I will get into an argument with one of “The Terrified” again. Have you ever been to a supermarket at about eight o’clock in the evening recently? They are full of people who are so scared of the germ-riddled world that they really should do all their shopping on-line… if only they weren’t too thick to actually do it. (Harsh? Possibly. Fed up with them? Definitely!)