Tag Archives: parking

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow

Dog Rose

Tomorrow I must present myself at hospital at 8.30 and, as I could be there some time, I must take spare clothes, my medication, food and “something to do.” At one time, I’m sure they used to mention reading material, It is a sign of changing technology that we now have more to do than read or do paper-based puzzles, though I can’t help feeling that a dumbing down process has taken place. Last time I was in I was actually asked by one of the staff what I did for a living. They had watched me read for several hours and developed a theory that I was a professor.

Of course, I wasn’t such a slippered pantaloon in those days. Now, grey and lined, I am presumably lost amongst the rest of the faded grey retirees who populate the waiting areas of the Urology Department.

Foxgloves and bee

A usual, my head is full of travel arrangements. Do I use a taxi or take the car, where will I park? The process of removing the catheter will sting a bit and involve embarrassment a strange women do things around my nether regions, but that is of less concern. Once you have had one strange woman approach your genitalia with rubber gloves and a determined expression, you lose the capacity to worry about discomfort and embarrassment.

I’m going to have a go at doubling up – arrive early, get a blood test then go to Urology. That way I can cancel Thursday’s blood test and have the day to myself.

Tomorrow is Julia’s day off, and I will miss it, due to sitting in hospital. The list of necessities is quite worrying. How much food? How many clothes? What are they planning that will involve changing my clothes? How much will they charge me for parking? It probably won’t be much less than a taxi, but the car is more convenient. I can get in and out of my car quite easily but some of the small Japanese things they send from the taxi firm can be a bit tricky.

Ah well, bed now and no more point in worrying.

Nasturtiums. Or peppery salad leaves. It all depends on your point of view.

I’ll leave you with a bit of Shakespeare. Word for word it is probably more densely packed with quotes than any other passage in the English language. Even more than the band of brothers speech in Henry V. This one also contains the title I would use if I were starting a new blog – A Tale Told by an Idiot. Having said that, if I were to write an autobiography I’d use a quote from henry V as the basis of the title – remembered with Advantage. I may have to write a book or two just to use the ides I have for titles.

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

Goldfinch

Photos are from June 2017, which include photos from my last stay in hospital (I thought I’d give them a miss but just include cheerful ones. It amazes me how much we got around in 2017. Now we don’t go anywhere to take photographs. This must change.

Day 204

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I had an untrasound scan today. After being shown into the room I was told to sit on the couch by a lady in scrubs.

“Do I need to remove any clothing?” I asked, thinking that I knew the answer already – this is the second time this are has been subjected to a handful of cold gel and the scrutiny of a stranger.

“”No,” she said, just sit on the edge of the couch and the sonographer will be along in a few minutes.”

It’s a good thing I asked, or all sorts of embarrassing circumstances could have arisen.

Last week when I had my chest X-Ray it was very efficient, and the same was true today. The main difference was that today was cheaper. Last week I paid £10 each way for a taxi (parking being poor at the hospital and my walking not being great). Today, with it being a quieter day, I took a drive down. I found parking in the Treatment Centre then took the lift up to the tram terminal and walked to the department. It was about 600 yards, which was enough. It was about 500 back, because I didn’t get lost, though I did have a sit down after the first 300. Car parking cost £2.40.

Next time I will try the tram. It will cost £4.40 but I can have a ride round afterwards.

It is time to become more adventurous, as I am becoming very set in my ways and apprehensive about going out. I have been telling myself I can only do 50-100 yards without trouble, but I can do 500 – 600 yards if today is any guide. By the end of the 600 I admit I was glad to sit down. The return 500 were trickier and I’m feeling sore at the moment,

I may even try shopping properly instead of hiding behind my computer, though I will then have to add “impulse buying” to the list of problems I need to control.

Day 8

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Up late, quick breakfast and off to work. Still first to arrive. Got a parking space, though customers from the hairdressers had used the spaces in front of the shop and parked two cars in three spaces. As usual, fought off the urge to park in front of the hairdresser and see how they like it.

We packed the parcels, I put two medallions on (one an Alcan medallion which features the Kitimat smelting plant and the Kemano power plant. It’s all very interesting, and proves, once more, the benefits of collecting for expanding the mind.

During the morning Julia texted to tell me I had a small package. At first I thought she was just being generally disparaging about my physical attributes, but further reading revealed that the Post Office had delivered a small package for me at the house. It just goes to show how modern written communications can be misunderstood.

Today was my day to have a half day, so I went home at 1am. For lunch we had the last of the Spiced Sweet Potato soup followed by the leftover vegetable stew and red cabbage from the last two days. For tea we had potato and paneer curry. I am now made up of such a high percentage of vegetables that a vegetarian cannibal could eat me without troubling his conscience.

This state of affairs won’t last – I’m planning on eggs and bacon for breakfast

and a roasted gammon joint for tea. We put two gammon joints in the freezer in case the reported possibility of Christmas food shortages became real, but they didn’t. Experience shows that if we leave them in there we will forget about them, so we are going to start eating them as part of a determined freezer clearance exercise.

Day 5

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This might be a slightly misleading title, because it’s not quite 9am. I have, however, got up early, moaned about having to get up early, got stuck in traffic going for my blood test, moaned about traffic and inconveniently placed roadworks, struggled to park, moaned about parking, and, finally, had a blood test.

The tester took three attempts but didn’t panic. Yes, strange as it seems, seeing as they are not the one being stabbed in the arm, they often get agitated if they miss first time. I know this because, as I have said before, they often do miss with my tricky veins.

I don’t mind a phlebotomist taking three attempts because it’s a difficult job. I do mind the other stuff because with a bit of planning much of it could be avoided.

All I want is a blood test at the GP surgery. I’ve been having them there for months, but because of the number of nurses needed to give vaccinations there are none for blood testing now. The result of this is that I have to get up at 6.30, add to the congestion, try to beat the staff to a space in the car park where staff, according to the big notice, are not supposed to park and then write a blog post to moan about it.

Is this what my “day off” is meant to be like? I haven’t had my breakfast yet and I already feel like I’ve put in a good day’s work.

“Work” was my 250th word, so I will leave it there as it’s my self-imposed minimum. If I carried on I would just start moaning again, as I’ve just been engaged in conversation with the pharmacy regarding a prescription that has disappeared. I didn’t want it, but they told me they had it for me. Julia went in to pick it up this morning and they now deny all knowledge of it. My original thought, that this was the most inefficient pharmacy in the world (you may have heard me mention this several times) has now been replaced by a theory that there are really two pharmacies working in parallel universes, which would explain why their right hand (in Universe 1) doesn’t know what the left hand (in Universe 2) is doing.

Header photo is my standard heron photo, looking hunched, dejected and/or grumpy. It seemed apt.

6.35

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I was downstairs for 6.35 this morning because I woke up before the alarm and didn’t thick it was worthwhile going back to bed for 20 minutes. It’s now 6.45 and I have spent ten minutes watching the blue circle revolve on my computer screen and checking emails. This is where my time goes.

The sky is bright, but lacks notable features, the air is coolish and the birds are quiet. I have missed the nice bit of early morning and just ended up with the dull bits. In a few minutes, having blogged about nothing other than the time, I will pop down to hospital, have my arm perforated and compose an imaginary letter to the Anti-coagulant Service explaining that I have better things to do than have a blood test every week. It is imaginary because it will have the same effect as writing one (ie none) but will save the effort of actually writing about it and enduring their response. There is something about the Anti-coagulant Service that drives me mad. It’s partly their assumption that I have nothing better to do than have blood tests and partly their view that Warfarin is the only Anti-Coagulant. I’ve actually had a conversation with a nurse where she used the word Warfarin in place of Anti-Coagulant.

At this point I will say no more, as I can get very cutting on the subject.

Time to go now, and see if I can get a parking space. If I do, all will be good. If I don’t, I will add to the parking problem by finding an awkward and unauthorised place to put my car.

That’s another subject Itry to avoid.

Has my life really become a series of gripes about small things? At one time I thought it would be about such interesting stuff, but this doesn’t seem to be the case. Even my blog is merely about the time I get up.

Early One Saturday

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The rain hammered down at one point during the evening. It was loud and lasted a long time. Despite our reputation for rain in the UK it’s often delivered as a drizzle, or, at worst, a prolonged and moderate fall. The short, sharp and noisy storm is something to be savoured, as long as you have a sound roof and a house on a hill. We seems to have survived in a water-tight and unflooded condition, so that is good.

At one time I would spring from my bed looking forward to the new day. These days I tend to lurk under the covers and worry about the new crop of problems that are likely to emerge. I don’t know if it’s experience, or simply that you become more fearful as you age. I remember telling my Mum and Dad that many of their fears weren’t likely to come true, but it didn’t make them go away. I’m now starting to worry about things similar to the ones they worried about. I listen to myself sometimes and hear echoes of their voices.

I also remember how they gradually aged between visits and wonder how the kids see me.

However, it’s Saturday morning, and that’s not a time for introspection. I just6 had my baked eggs (with tomatoes and cheese) and I need to make sandwiches before heading off for a day of fun with eBay and the random customers that chance sends our way. But first, of course, there will be the hassle about parking. On Saturday everybody seems to think that our parking spaces belong to them. We try not to be too negative, and don’t put up notices about private property or (like one shop in the row) clamping, but it is annoying. Working at the opticians? Going for bread in the shops 200 yards away? Need extra parking because you have too many cars for your drive? All these, and many more, are, it seems reasons why people take our spaces. The best one wa “I pay my taxes”. So do we. Paying our taxes does not, however, entitle us to park in the drive of the truculent woman who thinks it entitles her to use our parking spots.

Ah well, time for sandwich making.

1921 Pennies

Bringing out the worst in me…

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It’s 7.57. On a normal day I would just be lacing my shoes up, ready to take Julia to work. But today isn’t a normal day. I was at hospital for 6.55, securing one of the few remaining parking spaces. Either there are an awful lot of visitors outside opening hours or the staff are using the visitor spaces. I think you know where my money would go if I were a betting man.

I had a twenty minute wait at Phlebotomy because they needed a chat about gloves and the faults with the label printing software. During this time I also noticed that although we have “social distancing” in p[lace for chairs in the waiting room, the chair I selected was not socially distanced from the store cupboard.

When one member of staff used it, we were around 3 feet apart. When four members of staff needed it at the same time, three of them with trollies, I became part of a milling crowd of phlebotomists. I’m going to take a guess here, but my conclusion is that the person who drew up the seating plan had never been to outpatients.

I could go on to offer some suggestions for improvements, and discuss management and leader ship, but I’m eating my breakfast with one hand and typing with the other, thinking is probably a step too far. Anyway, next door’s builders are using power tools and it’s difficult to concentrate. There’s just something about getting the simple stuff wrong that really brings out the worst in me.

8.26 now. I’ve blogged, I’ve breakfasted and I’ve just checked the work eBay sales. It’s been a quiet week. I can’t see the day being distinguished by urgency and hard work.

Next time I post I will be fully vaccinated. It’s an all action day – blood test in the right arm this morning, vaccination in the left this afternoon. How’s that for advance planning? Two arms, two needles. I’m glad I don’t have a third needle to accommodate, as it would be a tricky choice.

Photo by Anna Shvets on Pexels.com

Phlebotomy Friday. Again.

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I woke several times during the night and at 5.48 decided it wasn’t worth going back to bed as the alarm was set for 6.30. This allowed me to have an unhurried breakfast, a reflective cup of tea and a few minutes answering comments. What it didn’t allow, was a parking space when I went for my blood test.

Parking has been getting tighter down there, and this wasn’t a total surprise, though it in’t normally full by 7am. It is supposedly a car park for visitors only, but I’m not sure this is true. When they first made it free they had a staff member on the entrance checking that you were a visitor. Since that check has been abandoned it has been steadily more difficult to find parking. The cynic in me, seeing a variety of clues inside the cars, and seeing drivers dressed in NHS uniform, tends to think the staff are ignoring the notices and taking the spaces meant for visitors.

The other part of me, the part that wants to believe they are all heroes and angels, doesn’t want to believe it. “Say it aint’ so, Joe!” my inner, innocent, self cries out. However, when I think back to the times I have been in hospital, including the time I was left glued to the bed by dried blood despite a request for help, I do start to wonder. If they are capable of leaving me stuck to my bedding, they are certainly capable of stealing my parking space.

I will, however, cut them some slack, because they generally do a good job and it’s a lovely day. The sun is shining, there was minimal ice on my screen this morning and the Robins were singing in the hospital garden.

The blood test, performed with the panache odf a world class fencer, took mere seconds. Touché, you could almost hear her cry.

And now, having got home in time to write a post, I will go to work.

Saturday Once More

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Yes, it’s Saturday again, and the end of the working week. As I set off to work I will do so knowing that I have a day without supervision (the owner has swapped days and is off today) and several regulars booked in with appointments.

I’m sorry about the abrupt end to yesterday’s post but I woke up with eighteen minutes to go and had to get into action quickly to preserve my record of daily posting. There was no time for elegance, just select an existing image and a few tags before publishing.

If you look at the comments you will notice that Lavinia, Rick and the cats are currently OK, but still ready to move at short notice. Good luck to them all.

I’m writing before leaving because I am going out tonight. It’s against my will, but I’m having to be sociable. Let’s face it, being sociable is against my normal inclinations too, but I am under orders from Julia.

Sadly, I think I just ran out of things to say. I have a lot on my mind this morning and the words are not coming easily. There’s nothing bad on my mind, just remembering to take certain things to work and wondering if there will be a parking space when I get there. The optician’s staff and hairdresser’s clients all seem to think, for instance, that our parking spaces are fair game.

When I win the lottery I’m going to rent 12 cars for a week and park them in the spaces used by people who habitually abuse our spaces.

Money, in case you are wondering, will definitely not make me a nicer person. I’ll just be the same old grouch but will be able to afford more books have a butler to wake me in time to finish my blog posts properly.

The Ten Best Things About Lockdown

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It’s not been all bad, by any means. I don’t know how it’s been for everyone else, but I’ve quite enjoyed some of the time.

One – being paid not to work. As far as I can see, there is no downside to this. I like my work, but I prefer being paid for nothing. This is different from my normal occupation where I have to go to the shop for six hours a day, where I am paid for doing very little work.

Two – spending more time with my wife. Again, what’s not to like? I know not everybody is as lucky as me in their choice of partner. Julia, for instance, doesn’t seem as keen on this aspect of the lockdown.

Bee in Cranesbill

Three – clean air. I have to take the Government’s word for this, but, unusually, they seem to be telling the truth. This has to be good.

Four – less traffic. I’ve been able to drive to hospital for blood tests and get a parking space. Luxury.

Five – free parking. I won’t lie to you, I am extremely mean and if I can save a couple of quid I will do. The hospital car park is free for the moment as they don’t want to handle all that dirty cash.

Six – I’m still on the same tank of fuel I had in March. I haven’t been able to go anywhere, but the money in the bank is handy. (See Five)

Seven – relaxation. The first couple of months made me feel years younger. After that, I have to admit, it began getting more stressful.

Eight – I did get some useful work done, though not enough. However, the bit that I did has been worth doing.

Pie, gravy and roasted veg

Nine – we ate lots of healthy vegetables and are feeling better as a result. Apart from one disastrous KFC we haven’t had a takeaway delivery all lockdown. We have been having fish and chips on Fridays since the shop reopened, but fish is good for you and I’ve been leaving half the batter and some of the chips, They give you too many chips. I’m pretty sure that complaining about having too many chips is a sign of age…

Ten – I haven’t needed to speak to anyone. Social interaction is, in my opinion, over-rated. I’ve texted a few people and been on WordPress to exchange a few views. That’s enough. Within that circle I have enough people and they are all sensible people. Mainly. One has been making films with Sooty, but there is always one. Talking to more people just involves me with being tactful to idiots. This isn’t at the top of my list of skills. That’s why I’m not often called to deal with customers these days.

That’s it. I’ve been lucky in lockdown and I intend to stay lucky by remaining in isolation for a while longer.

Arkwright the Tortoise

Blue Iris

Julia working in the Mencap Garden

Roses from Aldi

A Bear in a Tree

quercuscommunity

Life after the Care Farm