Busy week in the exam fevered world of school. Trying to squeeze every last second of work into each and every…teacher oh and student. Our office became an exam room for MFL and usual classroom too. So I used the car for my desk space. JS parked next to me. We sorted a few things by talking across the windows. Good meeting ! Teachers know how to adapt hey Ms Morgan no U turns for us.

I have to tell you I still have a headache

I think I mentioned bit of a trip, last week, damage to neck disc bulge nerve wotsit. Physio on the case and stuck in a few needles. Lets see how that goes. Meanwhile despite a frustrating time  on the Dipstick front had major success elsewhere. GP sourced NHS magic potions which last time I used it was something amazing like £200 a pop and at least 6 doses needed.  I cannot thank him enough for constantly sourcing and sorting. He even helped me out re my neck, using his secret ‘how-to-get past the Rottweiler’ system.

In the National News: .…Nicola….  showed up at a finance company in London,  she was wearing flats —  was told that she would have to put on heels.When she pointed out that men wouldn’t be expected to  work in heels,  her new colleagues laughed at her and dismissed her from work without pay

Surprise surprise I rang, (and I quote),  Dipstick’s ‘girls‘ , wonder if they have to wear stilettos? Found I had an appointment for Dipstick but no-one had told me. As I am only the patient, it really does not matter. Obviously, I have nothing better to do than go to appointments at a moment’s notice. Let alone give my employers any notice. NHS Consultants, Jerome tells me, need to give 6 week notice.

Then onto Thursday evening after a day of MORE marking, a  successful appointment with one of the Men-in-a-Boat, mentioned in earlier blogs. I think we called him Montmerency, after the dog.  Popped for a loo break on arrival. Guess what? my copious multicoloured catheter etc bag got caught on the emergency bell handle. All hell let loose. As the rapid response team ran to resuscitate me.  Calmed them all down. Went back to waiting room attempting an innocent look, as if to say I wonder what all that was about? Got completely rumbled by the receptionist who laughingly called across. ‘We charge extra for emergency calls!’ OOps….Back to Montmerency:  His swanky office on the third floor meant he clod hopper-ed down all the stairs, in his motor bike boots, to meet and greet me. Then we clomped back upstairs swapping inane banter as we went. I confessed the emergency bell was me. He hardly blinked – ‘of course, thought as much‘.  I told him Jerome has a cartoon of them both on a motorbike. He laughed hugely over that. We also had this idea of sipping very cold champagne on surgery roof terrace. Of course! Subsequent emails included Jerome. The banter I cannot possibly repeat but champagne, car bonnets, blankets and more, made sure we must’ve all been LOL, on our respective trains, or motor bikes home.

Major decision: Decided for the 6 week potion idea. Think of your bladder like a  50 year old ( so generous is he!) Teflon frying pan. Needs a recoating. Just do it. Stop Dipstick’s faffing. Make a decision. GET ON WITH IT. Second major decision: Get European-except-in-UK prescription drug from a  German-French -Apothecary.  YES? I think I have ordered it in my best German my late father in law would be proud. BREXIT or not, why the hell is there one law over there and another over here?

Next day was Friday:  7.00 a.m. Back to London. The station staff must imagine I am (not) a commuter bustling up and down to London for my awesome important job.  Better wear stilettos next time. Anyhow, made it, a tad late to North London Hospital. Northern Line evacuated. No tubes. Found a bus. Hospital wondering where everyone was! They were great. Thorough kidney check up. Headache building and uti brewing, was hoping to have had a coffee, before heading home. Used to live there on South End Green as a poor student! Its so dam posh there now I bet a coffee costs a lot of Euros. Another student lodgings was up the ‘Cally’  with ‘Sally‘ now, that is another story!

But, alas, no time. You see, the sacrosanct ‘Yellow Cardies’ team meeting.  That is: KitchenBridgeChatAdaptedAcol. This takes place every Friday afternoon. We DO wear yellow cardies, after an article about an ad with bridge, appeared in the Times. We alternate between each house. After the curious incident of my Dad and the stanley knife , we ALL keep phones on loud, just in case a child or parent needs us. This week the designated hostess lives nearer to Cambridge. So, tube still up the creek, found my old uni bus and  got the 12.29 train. Texted the yellows, to say I would just make it. Asked train trolley dolly for a bottle of water and a sandwich. Water =’yes’, sandwich = ‘run out’.Already ? we had only left London 5 minutes before. Awesome amazing LMcH to the rescue. As if by magic, she texted. ‘Meet me at my house. S driving us all. I will make you a sandwich‘ How on earth did she know?  Is that serendipitous or what? She had it all ready and my migraine moment dissolved. The rest of the afternoon disappeared

in a haze of chatter, laughter, raised eyebrows but no botox and I think some cards somewhere too. Utterly therapeutic banter which Jerome and Montmerency unwittingly joined as their emails pinged in.

 We were on it like a car bonnet. Whatever the hell that means.

a letter what I wrote whilst recovering from surgery last year…!