As I scoffed toast and peered into the Internet I rolled my
eyes. One of my colleagues had posted a photo of a Costa cup in the lab and had
commented “working eleven days in a row. I live at work, I just go home to
sleep.” Many friends, other colleagues and managers had clicked the “like”
button… Where I used to work I once got a formal disciplinary warning for
posting a selfie at six o’clock and commenting that I was tired.
How things change.
With little else happening on-line I filled out an on-line
request form to see my GP. My left knee is becoming a worry. I can and do walk
miles with no problems, but having walked miles with no problems I get
excruciating pain from the knee when I then get into the car. Getting up and
down hurts, and all the kneeling about when gardening is very painful. Back in
the day you would just go to Dr Mitchell’s house, sit in his front room and
wait to be called to see him. These days things are rather different. I filled
out the on-line form, and thought about a dog walk. Sadly the rain was hossing
down, and was forecast to do so all day. So I got dressed, and we went for our
walk anyway.
After navigating some rather busy roads we got to Kings
Wood. The car park was rather empty. Not surprising really bearing in mind the
rain. We walked a shorter route than usual, but when we got back to the car my
watch still said we’d covered a couple of miles.
As we got to the car so some thug was parking in a white
van. I opened the car’s boot and said “Boot Dogs” to indicate to the
pups that they should jump in (not that Bailey can manage it). “You
What?!” announced the thug in a rather threatening manner. I explained
about “Boot Dogs” being the command to get them into the boot; he didn’t
look convinced. I then did my whistle and gave the dogs a treat (to
reinforce the whole coming to the sound of a whistle) and the thug took
offence at that too.
We came home via the petrol station where I picked up
cakes, and had another episode. I drove down the road, indicated, slowed down
and pulled up in the end of the parking bay. The idiot in the car behind who
had been following far too closely behind had also pulled in behind me. When he
saw me getting out he flew back, then flew forward, wound down his window and
demanded to know that the f… I was playing at. I rather took the wind out of
his sails by telling him I was parking my car.
I wish I could get rid of my idiot magnet.
I showered the mud from the dogs, put some shirts in to
wash, made us both a cuppa, and dished out the cakes. Whilst “er indoors TM”
had a meeting I cracked on with some CPD. If you look on-line there are many
atlases of haematology; websites showing all sorts of weird and wonderful
things you see down the microscope. Some are rather obscure and you rarely if
ever see these things outside of an atlas. Years ago I started one of my own.
It’s nothing special, the photos are rather dreadful, but it is all stuff that
I have seen myself. You can see the atlas by clicking here (if you
feel so inclined).
I spent a little while this morning updating it with things
I’ve seen over the last couple of months. At the risk of getting technical,
those things were basophilic stippling, Howell Jolly bodies, May-Hegglin anomalies
and mitotic figures.
And then the washing machine finished so I cracked on with
the ironing. As I ironed I watched something on Netflix. “Masterminds” was a
rather good film.
And then I saw the postman had been. He’d delivered a
payslip… I say “payslip”; the pension equivalent of a payslip. The sort
of thing the pension people assured me I wouldn’t get (!) I then spent
an age poring over my monthly accounts trying to figure out why I had been paid
hundreds of pounds less than I thought I should be… eventually I remembered I’d
halved my working hours. Dur!
And then my phone beeped with a message. The GP can’t
examine my knee remotely and needs me to turn up so’s he can give it the
once-over. An appointment is booked for next week.
And then my phone beeped again. Yet another friend
request on Facebook trying to peddle porn websites.
“er indoors TM” boiled up sausages and
chips which we scoffed whilst watching an episode of “Taskmaster” and then
an episode of “Stacey Dooley Sleeps Over” in which Stacey was staying
with a trans couple in America. They were… different. But then isn’t everyone?
I’ve had a couple of days not at work in which I wasn’t
running myself ragged in the garden, and I’m not in pain. Perhaps I have been
overdoing it?
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