Rang my GP today to make an appointment to get my sick note renewed. As soon as I mentioned my name the receptionist vetoed the idea of me 'coming in'.
'How long do you want it for?'
'Don't you have to see me?'
Oh no, we know ALL about your situation. Dr M said if you ring in just to take your details and he'd have a note ready for you tomorrow.'
'OK well thanks, better make it another two weeks then.'
'Any news on when you might be going in?'
'As far as I know they are still waiting for the go ahead from the PCT.'
'Really! I will mention that to Dr. M, maybe he can have a word.'
I hung up feeling rather bemused. Does Dr M know someone on the PCT? Is he a member of the PCT? Who cares, if he can speed things up that is all I need to know.
If you are a football fan you might want to skip the next two paragraphs. Mini rant alert.
The super injunction row has finally penetrated my consciousness and I have to say what a load of codswallop. Firstly let me explain why it has taken so long for it to register. I detest our 'national' game so anything to do with it tends to go straight over my head. I just tune it out. Don't get me wrong I have had the odd knockabout in the park and enjoyed it, the pure form is after all just a ball game. What I hate is everything else that goes with it. It seems todays football is nothing more than an excuse for organised thuggery. Even the footballers themselves are constantly in trouble. Take Wayne Rooney (yes even I've heard of him but for all the wrong reasons). An ill educated overpaid adulterous oaf who by some unfathomable reason is held up as a role model for young boys. No wonder we are in trouble if that's the best role model we can come up with. I can think of at least a dozen better role models who have got where they are by doing what is right, sheer hard work and by being throughly decent people, but of course hard working = boring to today's youth so they haven't got a chance.
Now it would appear these twits want to keep behaving badly but don't want anyone to know about it. Why? It has never bothered them before. Yes everyone is entitled to privacy but not when they are pretending to be something they are not. The only conclusion I can think of is money must be involved somewhere. These men, and we found out who one of them is today, have carefully cultivated their images to boost their earnings through sponsorship and TV deals etc which could come crashing down around their ears if their behaviour got out. They want us to believe that they are family men who adore their wives and children and are kind to animals when in reality they are the exact opposites. After all family friendly businesses such as Coke do not want to be associated with an adulterer with a foul mouth and quick fists, as Wayne Rooney found out to his considerable cost. God, I bet Colleen gave him stick over that one. As for the WAGS (such an ugly word) well self respect is obviously not a requirement. Any woman who sticks with someone just because he earns pots of money despite his appalling behaviour deserves everything she gets.
Highlight of the day a trip to Costco. Thankfully they supply wheelchairs so for once my boot was left empty for all the goodies. We stopped off at the shopping center first and I hired one of the motorised scooters to whizz around on. I'm getting much better at driving this things now and am a dab hand at reversing out of the lifts in John Lewis. However this one nearly proved very costly. I've been hankering after a pair of skyscraper heels for some weeks now, but have been putting it off because a) I never go anywhere I could wear them and b) if I did wear them my sense of balance is so bad I'd probably break something within an hour of putting them on. Gazing through the shoe shop window at a particularly gorgeous pair with heels so tall and thin it would be like walking on a knitting needle it suddenly occurred to me that I'm in a chair. I don't walk anywhere much anymore so why not get them.I could sit quite happily and stylishly while buzzing around here, there and everywhere without fear of even getting a blister. I was on the brink of going in to try them on when husband arrived and put a damper on things by pointing out that in a few weeks I'll be back on my feet and what would I do with them then. Reluctantly I had to agree he had a point so the shoes remain in the shop much to the relief of my husband, bank manager and skeleton.
No phone call from mother or sister so obviously the only thing to erupt so far this week is in Iceland and thankfully nothing to do with me.
Been feeling quite breatheless these last couple of days. I don't know if it is down to the change in weather, we've gone from hot and humid to wet, windy and cold in the space of twenty four hours. Or whether it is because my condition is getting worse, which I suppose is to be expected until I get the new meds. I'm getting a bit frustrated now to be honest. I hate having to wait around for someone else to get their arse in gear. Please, please, please let there be a letter this week.
'How long do you want it for?'
'Don't you have to see me?'
Oh no, we know ALL about your situation. Dr M said if you ring in just to take your details and he'd have a note ready for you tomorrow.'
'OK well thanks, better make it another two weeks then.'
'Any news on when you might be going in?'
'As far as I know they are still waiting for the go ahead from the PCT.'
'Really! I will mention that to Dr. M, maybe he can have a word.'
I hung up feeling rather bemused. Does Dr M know someone on the PCT? Is he a member of the PCT? Who cares, if he can speed things up that is all I need to know.
If you are a football fan you might want to skip the next two paragraphs. Mini rant alert.
The super injunction row has finally penetrated my consciousness and I have to say what a load of codswallop. Firstly let me explain why it has taken so long for it to register. I detest our 'national' game so anything to do with it tends to go straight over my head. I just tune it out. Don't get me wrong I have had the odd knockabout in the park and enjoyed it, the pure form is after all just a ball game. What I hate is everything else that goes with it. It seems todays football is nothing more than an excuse for organised thuggery. Even the footballers themselves are constantly in trouble. Take Wayne Rooney (yes even I've heard of him but for all the wrong reasons). An ill educated overpaid adulterous oaf who by some unfathomable reason is held up as a role model for young boys. No wonder we are in trouble if that's the best role model we can come up with. I can think of at least a dozen better role models who have got where they are by doing what is right, sheer hard work and by being throughly decent people, but of course hard working = boring to today's youth so they haven't got a chance.
Now it would appear these twits want to keep behaving badly but don't want anyone to know about it. Why? It has never bothered them before. Yes everyone is entitled to privacy but not when they are pretending to be something they are not. The only conclusion I can think of is money must be involved somewhere. These men, and we found out who one of them is today, have carefully cultivated their images to boost their earnings through sponsorship and TV deals etc which could come crashing down around their ears if their behaviour got out. They want us to believe that they are family men who adore their wives and children and are kind to animals when in reality they are the exact opposites. After all family friendly businesses such as Coke do not want to be associated with an adulterer with a foul mouth and quick fists, as Wayne Rooney found out to his considerable cost. God, I bet Colleen gave him stick over that one. As for the WAGS (such an ugly word) well self respect is obviously not a requirement. Any woman who sticks with someone just because he earns pots of money despite his appalling behaviour deserves everything she gets.
Highlight of the day a trip to Costco. Thankfully they supply wheelchairs so for once my boot was left empty for all the goodies. We stopped off at the shopping center first and I hired one of the motorised scooters to whizz around on. I'm getting much better at driving this things now and am a dab hand at reversing out of the lifts in John Lewis. However this one nearly proved very costly. I've been hankering after a pair of skyscraper heels for some weeks now, but have been putting it off because a) I never go anywhere I could wear them and b) if I did wear them my sense of balance is so bad I'd probably break something within an hour of putting them on. Gazing through the shoe shop window at a particularly gorgeous pair with heels so tall and thin it would be like walking on a knitting needle it suddenly occurred to me that I'm in a chair. I don't walk anywhere much anymore so why not get them.I could sit quite happily and stylishly while buzzing around here, there and everywhere without fear of even getting a blister. I was on the brink of going in to try them on when husband arrived and put a damper on things by pointing out that in a few weeks I'll be back on my feet and what would I do with them then. Reluctantly I had to agree he had a point so the shoes remain in the shop much to the relief of my husband, bank manager and skeleton.
No phone call from mother or sister so obviously the only thing to erupt so far this week is in Iceland and thankfully nothing to do with me.
Been feeling quite breatheless these last couple of days. I don't know if it is down to the change in weather, we've gone from hot and humid to wet, windy and cold in the space of twenty four hours. Or whether it is because my condition is getting worse, which I suppose is to be expected until I get the new meds. I'm getting a bit frustrated now to be honest. I hate having to wait around for someone else to get their arse in gear. Please, please, please let there be a letter this week.
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