Wednesday, 13 June 2012

Tinky Winky Goes To the Olympics

I got it wrong, it is Peter's car which is due it's MOT today, mine is due next week so I've booked it in for Saturday.

Had a call from the sister at the warfarin clinic. She wanted to know why I had left the clinic without providing 'evidence' of my stay in hospital. Who on earth does this woman think she is? Why do I need 'evidence', this is a clinic not a court, and why should I lie anyway? Unwilling to get into another argument with the woman I explained, yet again, where I was, what I'd had done and why I'd had it done. I almost choked when she said, 'lung transplant? Why do you need a lung transplant you've only got high blood pressure.' Instead of slamming the phone down or hurling abuse about her competence I took a deep breath and told this 'highly trained health professional' what PH was. When I finished her reaction was that she'd 'never heard of it' and her attitude was if she's never heard of it, it can't exist. There are some people who just will not accept they are ignorant or wrong and I'd just stumbled across a prime example. Deciding that nothing I was going to say was going to make the slightest bit of difference to this woman I referred her to Dr Wort at the Royal Brompton, passing her is PA's number. I doubt she will bother to contact him but if she does I expect (hope) I'll be treated a little better in future but I'm not holding my breath. On the plus side my INR was spot on so I won't have to see her again for another ten weeks.

Was anyone else as gob smacked at the revealing of the model of our Olympic open ceremony as I was? My first thought was that it looked liked the Teletubbies house, and I should know I've sat through hours of them. My second though was 'oh no this is going to be embarrassing.' The designer, Danny Boyle, explained that we couldn't really top Beijing so we were going for something more 'homely', 'low key' and 'quintessentially British'. Well it's British all right, cheap, badly thought out and thrown together in a hurry. I mean what were they thinking? They've got sheep, clouds with real rain, as though we actually need any fake rain, a cricket team and someone ploughing a field. An opening ceremony to be remembered? Probably but for all the wrong reasons.

Tomorrow is the earliest date I can hear whether I'm on the transplant list or not. I know that they have their weekly meetings on a Thursday morning, I also know all my test results were emailed over to my transplant consultant the Friday after I had the tests so in theory there is nothing else that can delay the results, apart from the consultant being ill or on holiday. Last time I was waiting they phoned me around two on Thursday afternoon straight after the meeting. Up to now I've managed to put this to the back of my mind and have honestly not thought about it at all. However today I'm a nervous wreck and keep swinging between being positive that they will say yes and and being equally positive that I'll be turned down. The trouble is that I don't know what their criteria for a 'yes' is. I know they had concerns about my heart but the test results were very good so hopefully any concerns have been negated but I just don't know what they are thinking and I'm finding that very hard to cope with. I have a feeling I may not have a good night tonight.

The weather today is dry but I am still not able to do anything in the garden. The lawn is like a sponge and you squelch rather than walk. There are puddles in the flower beds and the self contained water feature is actually over flowing now. There is so much I want to get out and do but even when it isn't raining it is too wet.

The one compensation is that Queen's is on but that keeps getting rained off too, so watching Andy Murray is even more frustrating than usually.

Peter's car failed the MOT, he is not a happy man but his cold has improved so he is not as unhappy as he could be.

I've pulled on my slipper socks, wrapped myself in a thick jumper and armed with a box of Belgium chocolates and a good book will try not to think about tomorrow while praying Murray gets through to the second round.

Flaming June my foot!