Saturday, 19 May 2012

Wake Me Up When September Comes

Still got my cold but no better and no worse. Had a really good night's sleep and didn't wake up until nine, brilliant!

Finally got the phone call from the hospital, a mixture of good and bad news. Apparently the line man is also under the weather and is expected back on Monday. Carl, my nurse, who sounds as rough as hell, will grab him first thing and try and arrange a time. With a bit of luck it will be Monday but it is more likely to be Thursday or Friday, I can't go Tuesday or Wednesday as I'm in Harefield. Carl asked me lots of questions about the repair, such as is it leaking, and then advised me to remove it, give the area a good clean with alcohol and re-wrap it. On the plus side he said that if I had caught an infection I'd be really poorly by now so at least that is a comfort of sorts. To be honest if the medics are all down with bugs I'd rather wait until after my RHC anyway as I don't want it delayed by me having anything infectious. It is a bit of a pain having to wait again but at least by this time next week all the trauma should be passed and I can start to relax a bit again.

Well the Olympic torch left soggy Greece to arrive in soggy Britain on a 'gold' coloured plane. I already wince at the tackiness of it all. The flame was accompanied by Princess Anne Lord Coe and David Beckham. I can understand Princess Anne and Seb Coe as they were both Olympians but David Beckham? David Beckham is a footballer married to a stick insect who has chosen to leave Britain for the sun and celebrity of America. What on earth qualifies him to, not only accompany the torch but to light the cauldron when the torch reaches British soil?  And the rumour is that Beckham will also be lighting the flame in the stadium when it gets there. I have nothing against David Beckham per se but is he really the best role model they could find? Let's face it, non of our current crop of sports stars are doing very well, Andy Murray continues to be our great tennis hope despite losing almost every tournament. The English cricket team are closer to being heros having won the ashes and gained the number one in the world spot, albeit briefly. And motorsport doesn't get a look in despite boasting two British world champions.

The best David Beckham managed was losing in the world cup during a penalty shoot out and then go off to play football anywhere else but Britain.  Anyone reading my blog will know I am not a great lover of football, I just don't see the point of it, but if the best footballer we've got is a forty something who no longer even plays in Britain then we ought to be ashamed of ourselves. Personally I'd bring out Frank Bruno. Yes I know he's had his problems of late but he is one of the greats. No longer a boxer he lives quietly doing the odd TV appearance and causes no trouble. Yes he does have some issues with his mental health but I think he would do us proud. Mohammed Ali lit the flame despite his obvious problems with Parkinson's, so why can't we have Frank?

Anyway the flame is here and the first day of chaos has started, roll on September when it is all over. I know I should be thrilled, excited and proud that the Olympics are on British soil and I really thought I would be but right from the start Britain showed the world that it couldn't organise a party in a brewery. From the chaotic ticket sales to the putting of missiles on tower blocks the powers that be have clearly demonstrated they just haven't got a clue. These games are likely to be disrupted by the weather, strikes and terrorist alerts, hardly the impression we want the international stage to be left with. As for the native Brits well we face three months of disruption to our travel arrangements, holiday plans and day to day working lives. While some have been told to stay at home for seven weeks others have been told that they cannot take any leave meaning those with school aged children are unlikely to be able to get away during the precious school holidays. And as for the cost, well just don't get me started.

With sport dominating the schedules yet again today I tuned into BBC 2 to watch Macbeth. I have read this play many times, having studied it at school but I've never actually seen it. Now I know why, blimey how did they manage to make it so boring. Anyway in need of a mood lightener I got my box set of the Vicar of Dibley and happily watched a couple of episodes while doing the ironing.

Tomorrow Laurence is coming for lunch and then it is back to work for one day, provided I don't get a phone call, and then off to Harefield for the dreaded RHC. Where is the time going?