We had a massive thunderstorm last night, the first in ages but did it clear the air? In a word no, we remain muggy and damp.
I knew we were in trouble when I left work last night. I was bathed in warm sunshine as I walked to the car and enjoyed feeling the sun on my face for once. As I drove home I became aware of a bank of thick dark cloud racing towards me. The closer I got to home the more clouds appeared until I arrived on my drive to a smattering of rain. As I got changed and laid out my drug paraphernalia it got darker and darker until I had to turn the lights on to see what I was doing. Then it came, large drops of rain hard against the window and the low threatening rumble. Lightening flashed and thunder roared across the roof until ten minutes later the sun came out and it was all over.
The breast clinic on Monday was a traumatic experience, not least because they charged a pound an hour, no concessions for disabled people, and the letter in my hand said I'd be there at least two hours depending on what tests I needed. I parted with three pounds for three hours, just to be on the safe side and made my way in.
I found the mammogram intensely painful and vowed that next time I find something I'm going to keep it to myself. The mammogram was made more difficult because of my line. I was of course asked it I could 'take it off' during the test and wasn't exactly encouraged when everyone including the doctor kept referring to it as my 'pacemaker'. After the third explanation I saved my breath deciding I'd only explain exactly what I had and what my machine was if further treatment was required.
I was eventually shown into the consulting room where to my relief I was told my mammograms had come back perfectly clear. The doctor still wanted to do an ultrasound, 'just in case' there was something the mammogram hadn't picked up but I was so sore I declined. He explained that there was a very small chance that the ultrasound might pick up something the mammogram had missed but I really couldn't face an already painful breast being squashed again. Anyone who has ever had an ultrasound or ECHO knows how hard they have to press. So deciding that a clear mammogram was good enough for me I left feeling a lot happier than when I went in. The door has been left open for me to have the ultrasound at a later date if I want it. I might take them up on it if my symptoms reappear but I don't believe in looking for trouble so I'd have to be really worried to do so.
I did two nine hour days this week and sailed through them without a blip, it would have been three but I had the breast clinic so it was actually one five hour and two nine hours. Next week I'm attempting four nine hours, I don't know whether I will be able to do it but if I can't I can't, at least I'll have tried.
This afternoon Peter is in work so I will have another afternoon on my own as Andrew is still enjoying himself in Bulgeria. So it will be out with the vacuum cleaner and mop, even though I got told off last time, and a quick flick around with a duster. It's amazing how much pleasure you can get out of doing things you're not supposed to.
I have yet to hear from Papworth and have decided to email the Brompton if nothing has arrived by Monday. I don't want to sound impatient but I spent six months waiting to be turned down by Harefield and I don't want to do that again. If it is going to be a 'no' I rather know now than have hope dragged on for nothing.
In the news O2 are upsetting their customers by not fixing their 'technical glitch' quickly enough. There have been a lot of technical glitches in the UK of late with the banks RBS, Nat West and Ulster all having problems over the last few weeks. Maybe they shouldn't have sacked all their highly skilled IT experts and moved everything over to the, undoubtedly cheaper, Asian sector. As my mother always says, you get what you pay for and if you pay cheap don't expect quality.
The same can be said for the debacle that is G4S and the security of the Olympics. With sixteen days to go G4S finally admitted they don't have enough trained staff to cover all the venues to the standards our ever paranoid government require. What a surprise, and the government's answer, bring in the armed forces, as if there are not enough of them attending as it is. Far from being the 'friendly games' they are turning into the most militarised ever seen. Hardly a 'friendly' message to the world is it.
Talking of the Olympics the torch made it's way through our area Saturday and Sunday and was remarkably unmolested. I'd have put a bet on something happening to it but is seems it can't even raise interest in our most militant residents. I stayed away, I had no desire to stand shivering in the rain for hours for a three second glance, if I'm lucky, of the ghastly thing.
To add to my annoyance I had an email yesterday offering me a disabled space at one of the football matches for the very reasonable price of £850. I wouldn't pay that to watch Murray play in the final at Wimbledon or sit opposite the pits at the British Grand Prix. The worst thing was the way they worded the email to make it sound as though they were doing me a huge favour. 'We realise how disappointed you must have been to miss out on the tickets you requested, for the tennis event, so we are delighted to be able to offer you .....' The closer the games get the more grateful I am to have missed out. And now even the TV is nagging me, every time I turn it on up pops a message along the lines of 'to get more red button options during the Olympics press to activate blah, blah, blah.' I think the DVD player is going to be very busy very soon.
Well time to go and prepare lunch before Peter heads off to work. He is silently, or not, fuming as he has been waiting all week to get a chance to work on his car and the only completely dry day comes along when he has other commitments. At least yesterday he did manage to get some stuff done before the heavens opened thank goodness but progress is still painfully slow.
I knew we were in trouble when I left work last night. I was bathed in warm sunshine as I walked to the car and enjoyed feeling the sun on my face for once. As I drove home I became aware of a bank of thick dark cloud racing towards me. The closer I got to home the more clouds appeared until I arrived on my drive to a smattering of rain. As I got changed and laid out my drug paraphernalia it got darker and darker until I had to turn the lights on to see what I was doing. Then it came, large drops of rain hard against the window and the low threatening rumble. Lightening flashed and thunder roared across the roof until ten minutes later the sun came out and it was all over.
The breast clinic on Monday was a traumatic experience, not least because they charged a pound an hour, no concessions for disabled people, and the letter in my hand said I'd be there at least two hours depending on what tests I needed. I parted with three pounds for three hours, just to be on the safe side and made my way in.
I found the mammogram intensely painful and vowed that next time I find something I'm going to keep it to myself. The mammogram was made more difficult because of my line. I was of course asked it I could 'take it off' during the test and wasn't exactly encouraged when everyone including the doctor kept referring to it as my 'pacemaker'. After the third explanation I saved my breath deciding I'd only explain exactly what I had and what my machine was if further treatment was required.
I was eventually shown into the consulting room where to my relief I was told my mammograms had come back perfectly clear. The doctor still wanted to do an ultrasound, 'just in case' there was something the mammogram hadn't picked up but I was so sore I declined. He explained that there was a very small chance that the ultrasound might pick up something the mammogram had missed but I really couldn't face an already painful breast being squashed again. Anyone who has ever had an ultrasound or ECHO knows how hard they have to press. So deciding that a clear mammogram was good enough for me I left feeling a lot happier than when I went in. The door has been left open for me to have the ultrasound at a later date if I want it. I might take them up on it if my symptoms reappear but I don't believe in looking for trouble so I'd have to be really worried to do so.
I did two nine hour days this week and sailed through them without a blip, it would have been three but I had the breast clinic so it was actually one five hour and two nine hours. Next week I'm attempting four nine hours, I don't know whether I will be able to do it but if I can't I can't, at least I'll have tried.
This afternoon Peter is in work so I will have another afternoon on my own as Andrew is still enjoying himself in Bulgeria. So it will be out with the vacuum cleaner and mop, even though I got told off last time, and a quick flick around with a duster. It's amazing how much pleasure you can get out of doing things you're not supposed to.
I have yet to hear from Papworth and have decided to email the Brompton if nothing has arrived by Monday. I don't want to sound impatient but I spent six months waiting to be turned down by Harefield and I don't want to do that again. If it is going to be a 'no' I rather know now than have hope dragged on for nothing.
In the news O2 are upsetting their customers by not fixing their 'technical glitch' quickly enough. There have been a lot of technical glitches in the UK of late with the banks RBS, Nat West and Ulster all having problems over the last few weeks. Maybe they shouldn't have sacked all their highly skilled IT experts and moved everything over to the, undoubtedly cheaper, Asian sector. As my mother always says, you get what you pay for and if you pay cheap don't expect quality.
The same can be said for the debacle that is G4S and the security of the Olympics. With sixteen days to go G4S finally admitted they don't have enough trained staff to cover all the venues to the standards our ever paranoid government require. What a surprise, and the government's answer, bring in the armed forces, as if there are not enough of them attending as it is. Far from being the 'friendly games' they are turning into the most militarised ever seen. Hardly a 'friendly' message to the world is it.
Talking of the Olympics the torch made it's way through our area Saturday and Sunday and was remarkably unmolested. I'd have put a bet on something happening to it but is seems it can't even raise interest in our most militant residents. I stayed away, I had no desire to stand shivering in the rain for hours for a three second glance, if I'm lucky, of the ghastly thing.
To add to my annoyance I had an email yesterday offering me a disabled space at one of the football matches for the very reasonable price of £850. I wouldn't pay that to watch Murray play in the final at Wimbledon or sit opposite the pits at the British Grand Prix. The worst thing was the way they worded the email to make it sound as though they were doing me a huge favour. 'We realise how disappointed you must have been to miss out on the tickets you requested, for the tennis event, so we are delighted to be able to offer you .....' The closer the games get the more grateful I am to have missed out. And now even the TV is nagging me, every time I turn it on up pops a message along the lines of 'to get more red button options during the Olympics press to activate blah, blah, blah.' I think the DVD player is going to be very busy very soon.
Well time to go and prepare lunch before Peter heads off to work. He is silently, or not, fuming as he has been waiting all week to get a chance to work on his car and the only completely dry day comes along when he has other commitments. At least yesterday he did manage to get some stuff done before the heavens opened thank goodness but progress is still painfully slow.
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