There’s always a sense of relief when a problem is resolved with a relatively straightforward solution. Thankfully a recent addition to my daily pharmacological cocktail seems to have delivered the desired results and my sleeping has improved; rather like a proud parent I am pleased to report the Spinster is now sleeping through the night! Well at least I think she is, the reason for a slight hesitation is I can’t be confident about this assertion as my short term memory has been noticeably worse of late and yes this is not me being precious rather a further symptom that can be ticked on the inventory. Oh the joys of progress!
I was telling my friend about the sleeping issue and was suddenly overwhelmed with a fit of the giggles when I got on to the challenges of not actually being able to remember what I had actually done during the hours of darkness. Along with not laughing on a full bladder – without a ladies water alert being issued – I can no longer maintain my balance whilst laughing. The rubber ferrules (that tips to me and you) are rubbish in the wet, in fact frankly lethal on the pool side and a gingerly measured pace is advised with the operator applying a high degree of focussed concentration. Oh and it best to keep your eyes open which when is the throws of laughter is virtually impossible!
Fear best describes the look on the face of the half awake lifeguard suddenly no longer slumped in the high chair positioned in the corner of the pool. As I noted to the GP today walking with crutches can be like having four legs; but with all four going in different directions and me (in a swimsuit) doubled over shaking (with an animated ‘could be pain could be pleasure’ look on my face) – yes it was a miracle no one ended up on their coccyx!
Yesterday was one of catching up with people and personal maintenance. Coffee with colleague explaining to me the Serbian Christmas which is on 6 January and this had followed on from an already busy Welsh Christmas – to think that I had felt overwhelmed with food preparation when she had feasted for twice the period. We did laugh when sharing a story of a mutual acquaintance from Eastern Europe who found her explanation of festive in her country resulting in an embarrassed silence. Not the kind of woman to be put off she carried on regaling the gathering with details of her mother enthusiasm for the traditions. Eventually someone took her on one side – her accented pronunciation was the problem; instead of ‘feasting’ she had repeatedly said ‘fisting’ which of course has quite a different meaning and is certainly not seasonal!
Coffee was followed by a podiatry appointment – I always thought that this was different to the chiropody my granny used to have but in my experience its pretty much the same only you pay more and chat more. The practitioner was running late, very late, to the extent that I checked with the receptionist that i had got the right time. Tardiness irritates me especially when no one else seems aware of it; the ever increasing number of people in the tiny waiting room was a bit of a clue. Even I can work out that 6 people waiting for 2 podiatrists means either some people are very early and others are just early or perhaps they are running late!
The receptionist was attempting to multi-task simultaneously answering the disgruntled man who appeared periodically from the back room before going upstairs (returning minutes later talking to anybody who’d listen about where he’d put his tools (turned out he was the owner podiatrist’s husband)); responding politely to the earnest looking man with his coat on who appeared from the side room to ask about the photocopier and of course there where the patients both seated in the waiting room and buzzing at the front door to announce their arrival! Bedlam boring on chaos in a small space so bless her (the receptionist), now was possibly not the best time to be going through a contract for commercial waste disposal – in triplicate (this I know because I was seated next to her desk and because she was talking to herself as she went through the papers; before I realised they were rhetorical questions to herself I found myself answering them!).
When I finally got into the Podiatrist’s chair she said ‘no need to hurry’ as I rather ineptly unzipped my knee length boots whilst standing resulting in a comedy wiggle which she got full the rear benefit of (not good). And lordy the socks have yet to be removed – fortunately I remembered in time not to put tights on under my trousers; had I been wearing tights I would have happy told her to cut the feet off rather than share my underwear! Dressing these days is a form of performance art than Marina Abramovich would (almost) be proud of! Bloody time consuming though – I still haven’t fully adjusted to the disabled thing yet; come on its only been 7 (OK nearly 8) years and before I had a full eclectic 30 something years(can’t remember exactly – memory problems see paragraph 1 or perhaps 2) of relative normality.
But I’m still attempting to squash my annoyance – the amusing eldery patients with their random Baltic holiday cruise plans intertwined with the challenges of Cardiff Bus and unbelievably the woman who sits behind the door to adjust her toe bandage before deciding she’ll ask the rapidly retreating Podiatrist if he could give her a fresh dressing and when he doesn’t reply bunny hops on one and a half feet – ahhh a deep breath girl! Smiling sweetly I lift myself gracefully – ok go with me on this one ladies – into the adjustable chair and ‘relax’. The Podiatrist is a lovely woman and you can’t get stay cross with her for long. At least I can’t; apparently she and her husband regularly go for longish periods of time not speaking to each other to the extent that they cook separately. They own the premises including the flat upstairs that he has been doing up for rent – for 17 years! The lost rent is apparently equivalent to the price they paid for the property originally; perfection has a price and this is not exactly a premium rental area.
During the session I begin to feel nauseous to the extent at one point I genuinely think I’m about to vomit. Suddenly I understand the power of reflexology – curious connection to make but why else would someone manipulating ones feet trigger such visceral nausea. Later the same day my facial appointment the same nausea rises – along with apparently me taking a ‘nap’ during which I do remember saying something although irritatingly I can’t recall exactly what was on my mind at the time and the beautician is too discrete to fill me in!
When I finally get to see the doctor I have a temperature indicating that the strange feeling I have been attempting to ignore is an infection so hopefully a dose of good old antibiotics can sort me out. When I get to the Pharmacy I could have cried when the TWO carrier bags of goodies do not include the painkillers I ran out of the day before; addiction is an awful affliction. Necessarily the Spinster has become part of that ‘scum of the earth’ category of ‘substance abuser’; in a previous era I would have been like Mr Holmes himself minus the needle injection which frankly scares me witless!
And I haven’t even got onto the growling boiler emitting a noise like a muffled woodpecker that woke me at 3 am this morning! As a parting shot I would like to caution against casually agreeing to having Windows 8 installed onto ones computer. Safe to say that there are significant compatibility issues when Windows updates are downloaded automatically – and it doesn’t like the new ingredients being added into the existing recipe! This ongoing ‘conundrum’ may be added to the list for my visiting chums this weekend; my pathetic puppy dog with poorly paw knows no bounds (on occasions and only ever in private)!!