I slept rather well last night; over seven hours. It’s
amazing how a night shift sorts out insomnia albeit temporarily.
I made toast, watched some telly, saw absolutely nothing at
all was happening on the Internet, and set off to work. As I drove the pundits
on the radio were wittering on about “Martha’s Rule” again. Having conceded
that the rule is not news and that people already can ask for second opinions,
today they were trying to make an issue of the fact that it is the NHS’s fault
that the general public can’t be bothered to educate themselves and don’t know
their rights. As I said yesterday, three years ago the BBC had us all on the
doorsteps clapping for the NHS like demented sealions. Today they can’t stick
the knife in fast enough or deep enough.
This was followed by the “Thought for the Day” in
which some Hindu chap spent five minutes ranting on about how brilliant the sun
was, and that no one owned it. What a total waste of peak radio air-time.
Work was work; today I was doing some training on issuing
of blood and blood products. Giving blood and blood products for transfusions
is dead simple as long as you remember the one simple rule “don’t kill
anyone!”.
A tad flippant perhaps? Possibly. But that is the secret of
working in blood transfusion.
As I worked so I had a phone call. Yesterday I wondered if
the dentist’s practice manager might phone me back. She did. I pointed out that
I joined a private patient scheme at their suggestion and insistence only to be
able to get any sort of dental treatment on a Friday… provided the dentist who
only shows up on a Friday isn’t having one of his (seemingly) many long
weekends. They asked if I would like to be seen by another dentist. I replied
that I don’t care which dentist rummages in my gob as long as I can have a bit
of flexibility (i.e. not just Friday) on what day I can get an
appointment.
I’m being transferred to a dentist who works more than one
day a week…
With “er indoors TM” out with her mates I
got myself something special for dinner. Some M&S chicken wings and some
posh salted caramel ice cream from the shop over the road.
The M&S chicken wings were rather grim, and the salted
caramel ice cream was all ice and no cream.
“er indoors TM” came home with a huge
Aldi trifle…
I’ve got guts ache now…
Some days in my life are rather good… some are dull.
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