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.