My mum's hernia surgery was scheduled for 1st July but was cancelled at the eleventh hour because of the discovery of a potential liver problem she has. Naturally we are all glad of the intervention but wish we could have been alerted sooner than 12 hrs before surgery was due to take place. My sister had flown over from Spain, and I had endured a 5 hour sit in on the M25 only to be diverted off onto the M11, the A406 which is the lovely lovely North Circular Road, and then onto the A13. Rather selfishly my first concern was not for the poor souls involved in the awful pile up, but for my weak bladder and the thought of having to pop a squat on the hard shoulder.
During the recent spell of decent weather, we seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time at B&Q (other retail outlets are available) searching for turf, plastic tables and fence panelling, none of which you might imagine to be particularly scarce or unusual, but all of which presented their own unique challenge. The most frustrating was the fence panel; it wouldn't fit in the car and they charge £20 to deliver, making the total cost rather expensive. Solution? Buy two smaller fence panels which do fit into the car, and put them together to make a whole one once in situ. What could be easier? Just about anything you care to think of as it turned out.
I am off to Warwick hospital on Wednesday for a check up on my hip. I had a hip replacement about seven years ago and whilst check ups would normally not be annual, the hip joint I had has both a metal cup and a metal ball. This combination has caused many a problem for an unfortunate minority with metal filings getting into the bloodstream and a whole host of nasty oozing yukkiness seeping to the surface, which at best is socially embarrassing and at worst is life threatening.
It is hoped annual check ups will catch any horror stories before they get the chance to take hold, which is why I am keen to attend each year. Thus far I have been more than lucky, and the only problem I encounter is setting of detectors when going through security at airports. I am well versed in the process of being frisked these days! | I wanted to have...a purge and throw out junk, but needed to adopt furtive tactics...in order to prevent the bin police from thwarting my plans |
Not so satisfying were my uni results. I was initially very disappointed because I really thought I hadn't done well in only one exam, but it turns out I fluffed two of them. Furthermore I found out via a photo someone had taken of a results list posted on our notice board in the common room and who had put it on Facebook, since individual results took an age to materialise and be received. Anyway the combined results of assessed essays and exams gave me four module results of: a 1st, a 2.1, a 2.2 and a 3rd. A real mixed bag.
I worked so hard that at first I couldn't imagine how on earth I could ever do any better. How can I possibly pull it out of the bag for next year to achieve an overall 2.1? I was hugely despondent for a few days, but luckily both my friends and my personal tutor have persuaded me that whilst it's not a mark up there in flashing lights, neither is it an awful result. After all, I have passed for goodness sake. So, I took a deep breath, have turned it into a positive and have plenty of time to up the ante before June next year. I want that cap and gown photo gathering dust!
Today I managed once again to gouge a crater out of my shin. I have a favoured leg that I like to inflict these injuries on and this time I did it whilst managing to wobble alarmingly on my bike trying to execute a U turn in the alleyway because I had forgotten my helmet and was going back for it. I looked down to see blood running into my shoe from a wound delivered courtesy of the nut holding the mudguard on. So I cleaned and patched myself up only to discover that I had bent the mudguard to such an extent that the wheel wouldn't go round when I got back on it. I really should have had a stitch or two to be honest, adding to the patchwork of scars accumulated over recent months. I am a clumsy bugger to be sure but won't be so when taking up my next university challenge in September I hope.
Squeamish Sue