It is week 5 of my cold virus and, although my runny nose has finally dried up, I’m still coughing. It’s making me grumpy and irritable and I tell it to fuck right off twenty times a day 😉
Despite my Mum’s endoscopy appointment being for 9am on New Year’s Eve we still waited a whole hour before she was called in for her pre-test checks and were there over 2 hours in total. It isn’t physically possible to be running an entire hour late at 9 o’clock in the morning, so one can only assume the way the department is run leaves a lot to be desired. I know when my Dad had his endoscopy it took 4½ hours, 3½ hours of which were spent sitting in the waiting room. The upshot of Mum’s endoscopy was that it had to be halted mid-way through because of a drop in her oxygen levels (having half a lung and a humongous tube down your throat will do that to you), so we’ve got to go back and have it done again. Oh joy.
Speaking of my Mum, we had a conversation in the car about menopausal hormones and how they can make you irritable. “You were really nasty when you first started going through the menopause” she tells me, “I recognized it from when I went through it”. Er, no, Mother. I shouted at you because I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown because you are an alcoholic and were drunk every day by lunchtime, leaving me to run your life, my Dad’s life, your home, my home and my own life all the while suffering from 3 serious and disabling diseases! I didn’t say that, though, because she was on her way for an endoscopy and I didn’t want to upset her. This is the extent to which addicts are in denial. They can’t see that their behaviour affects anyone but them and are unable to take responsibility for their situation. I’m still seething about her comment a week later – pointless I know, but I’m only human.
I received the vet’s bill for Bertie’s tooth cleaning, blood test and dewclaw removal this week. £400 ($523). Arrggghhhh! He wasn’t even in a day, let alone overnight. And before anyone asks why he isn’t insured, he used to be. I paid £19.50 a month until the insurers discovered he had a slipped disc and they demanded £179 a month instead. Fucking robbers.
Things are starting to move with the house sale/purchase and I’ve received a ginormous wad of paperwork to fill in from my solicitor. Several people have asked that I do pictures of the bungalow renovation, so I’ve set up a separate blog for that – I’ll let you know when I start posting! I seem to be the only person excited about my house move – everyone else thinks I’m mental for taking on such a massive project, which is starting to get to me It’s happening, I’ve done my research, survey, costings and plans and it’s not like I haven’t done houses up before (admittedly not this level of renovation but still). I’m not clueless or naive, so I wish they’d just get on board and be supportive.
My elderly, disabled friend who I called an ambulance for when he fell out of bed bought me a new hoover for Christmas 😮 He’s not short of a bob or three so £300 isn’t anything to him, but it’s a big deal to someone on my income and I’m incredibly grateful. It’s a lightweight, cordless, stick one and doesn’t kill my back like my big, clunky Dyson – important as I’m still currently sans cleaner. You know your life is a huge pit of excrement when you get excited by a hoover.
Well, I’d better get up and get my arse in gear. I’m meeting my bestie for lunch today in the city, which I’m very much looking forward to, and am fairly sure it wouldn’t be acceptable to rock up in my jim jams and fluffy bedsocks with the hole in the heel 😀 But first I have to walk the mutt. He knows the route with his eyes shut, so why he can’t just take himself off for a wander and leave me to have a lie-in is beyond me, the selfish article.