There’s something they say about buses. Something about waiting and waiting and waiting and then more than the necessary number turning up.
I could probably have put that simpler.
It can seem like something of a truism, however. Especially the waiting bit. Especially in these times of lockdown. Of course there’s a whisper we’re emerging from those times, and whether or not you believe that, some semblance of normality seems to be trying to re-assert itself.
A Shot In The Arm
Take me, for instance. As a man born with Spina Bifida, who has picked up the additional complexities of MS and pernicious anemia in some kind of buy-one-get-two-free deal I had hospital appointments coming out my ears (not literally, that would probably be another condition that would take even more appointments to manage). During lockdown, however, those appointments have evaporated.
To be fair, the bulk of these are the regular, non-urgent types of appointments. The check-ins and check-ups which accompany chronic health conditions. This week, I have three such appointments.
The first, well, to be honest, the first is behind me.
At the time of writing (10:45am BST), I have just returned from my second Covid vaccination. As with the first jab, this was a painless affair, both in the respect of how quick and easy the whole process was, and in respect of actual pain. I’m beginning to feel a little grotty now, but hopefully the paracetamol I popped before leaving for my appointment will soon be helping with the sore head and full body ache which seems to be settling in.
As Tina, my wonder-wife, is at work today, I’m left to care for myself, but as a 46-year-old man, I think I can just about manage Besides, as Tina once told the benefits agency, she doesn’t care for me. And you can read that sentence however you wish to.
So that’s appointment one, done!
Appointment two is a new one on me. A trip to the Podiatrist to see how I can better care for my feet. This is something I’ve been wanting to organise for a while now, but the wisdom I’ve received regarding such appointments was that they were like rocking-horse doodoo. That is, they were rare, if not non-existent, especially in these interesting times. This turned out to be less than true.
Worst Foot Forward
In fact, I only spoke to the local doctor about such an appointment a couple of weeks ago, and I was astonished when I got a text two days later to confirm they would see me tomorrow. As I say, this is by no means an urgent matter, not when Covid still ravages the world. But as I can barely reach either foot due to not bending at the waist very well, and as my toenails are starting to resemble something from a zombie movie and the skin on the bottom of my feet is drier than the Sahara Desert branch of temperance Anonymous, it is something which needs attention, and from a professional too.
To be fair, the bulk of these are the regular, non-urgent types of appointments. The check-ins and check-ups which accompany chronic health conditions. This week, I have three such appointments.
The first, well, to be honest, the first is behind me.
At the time of writing (10:45am BST), I have just returned from my second Covid vaccination. As with the first jab, this was a painless affair, both in the respect of how quick and easy the whole process was, and in respect of actual pain. I’m beginning to feel a little grotty now, but hopefully the paracetamol I popped before leaving for my appointment will soon be helping with the sore head and full body ache which seems to be settling in.
As Tina, my wonder-wife, is at work today, I’m left to care for myself, but as a 46-year-old man, I think I can just about manage Besides, as Tina once told the benefits agency, she doesn’t care for me. And you can read that sentence however you wish to.
So that’s appointment one, done!
Appointment two is a new one on me. A trip to the Podiatrist to see how I can better care for my feet. This is something I’ve been wanting to organise for a while now, but the wisdom I’ve received regarding such appointments was that they were like rocking-horse doodoo. That is, they were rare, if not non-existent, especially in these interesting times. This turned out to be less than true.
Worst Foot Forward
In fact, I only spoke to the local doctor about such an appointment a couple of weeks ago, and I was astonished when I got a text two days later to confirm they would see me tomorrow. As I say, this is by no means an urgent matter, not when Covid still ravages the world. But as I can barely reach either foot due to not bending at the waist very well, and as my toenails are starting to resemble something from a zombie movie and the skin on the bottom of my feet is drier than the Sahara Desert branch of temperance Anonymous, it is something which needs attention, and from a professional too.
The third instalment of the trilogy comes on Friday, and thankfully it’s coming to me, rather than me having to go to it. This is the seemingly endless task of getting all four wheels of my wheelchair to be in full working order at the same time.
Once again it is one of the front castors which are causing me issues. Both these front castors were replaced exactly one week ago, allowing me actually to take the dog out for a walk in the sun for a few days. Then the left caster started to work loose and wobble. Then the wobble got worse, until the ‘chair started to list, judder, and pitch in ways which are increasingly worrisome. The man in the van with the parts and the tool will probably be with me reasonably early and hopefully my message, which detailed exactly the problem, and which part was needed has filtered through and it won’t be another case of coming back with the right parts/equipment. Even then, should everything go smoothly, I’m tempted at this point to start a stopwatch from when the repairman leaves the house until the point he comes back through the door.
The Tough Get Going
So that’s the week that will be. It’s going to be busy, it’s going to be tough. I can already feel a great weariness settling upon me, and these few tasks will test that. Add in my planned writing tasks, and it becomes even tougher, which is why I’ve tried to get this blog written a few hours earlier than is usual. As Tina, my trusty line-editor is absent from the house today, I’m hoping my growing fatigue and brain-fog won’t result in this post being an error-strewn mess of unintelligible randomness (What do you mean, how would we tell the difference?).
Anyhoo, for now, it’s time to draw a veil over these poor scribblings. I’m away to grab some lunch, a couple of paracetamol, and perhaps an hour’s nap. Let us hope the next few days prove kind.
Until next time…
Once again it is one of the front castors which are causing me issues. Both these front castors were replaced exactly one week ago, allowing me actually to take the dog out for a walk in the sun for a few days. Then the left caster started to work loose and wobble. Then the wobble got worse, until the ‘chair started to list, judder, and pitch in ways which are increasingly worrisome. The man in the van with the parts and the tool will probably be with me reasonably early and hopefully my message, which detailed exactly the problem, and which part was needed has filtered through and it won’t be another case of coming back with the right parts/equipment. Even then, should everything go smoothly, I’m tempted at this point to start a stopwatch from when the repairman leaves the house until the point he comes back through the door.
The Tough Get Going
So that’s the week that will be. It’s going to be busy, it’s going to be tough. I can already feel a great weariness settling upon me, and these few tasks will test that. Add in my planned writing tasks, and it becomes even tougher, which is why I’ve tried to get this blog written a few hours earlier than is usual. As Tina, my trusty line-editor is absent from the house today, I’m hoping my growing fatigue and brain-fog won’t result in this post being an error-strewn mess of unintelligible randomness (What do you mean, how would we tell the difference?).
Anyhoo, for now, it’s time to draw a veil over these poor scribblings. I’m away to grab some lunch, a couple of paracetamol, and perhaps an hour’s nap. Let us hope the next few days prove kind.
Until next time…
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