So hello February. Made it through January without hospital admission. Got a bit close as infections  continue unabated.  Some advice from one of the men-in-my-boat.  He explained a sort of washing technique which he said should help. Despite my scrupulous shower and antibacterialisation ,clearly what I should be doing is taking a bottles of water everywhere. Using that to slosh from front to back. Really? So should I take a few bottles into my ever heavier bigger ginormous handbag of catheters and pads and wipes and antibacterial spare this that and the other. So now, add water bottles, justin case of need on my next train journey. I do not know how I stopped myself laughing. I had this vision a bum buddy. Bit like the bladder one Jerome had sent ( search: you tube clip Bladder Buddy for Dragons Den).

In my efforts to keep a straight face I wrote  earnestly in my little red book ‘what did the Dr say.’.notes .

What did I write? …..I wrote Evian, Perrier, Badoit….

In other news …the creaking NHS is upsetting my boat. Signs of stress, frustration and exhaustion in the doctors I have come to know so well. Best explained in the BBC series ‘Hospital’. I don’t know what the solution is. But I have in fact asked the PM to include me in talks about integration of Health and Social Care. Would make a start at clearing some bed spaces. Well she hasn’t replied…Yet. Frrr. Meanwhile I have yet another frigging letter from a London hospital. God alone knows what the stamp and stationary expenses must be. This is one cancelling my March appointment. Which was due to a cancellation in October 2016. Which was due to a cancellation in July 2016. Now I have an appointment in July 2017. One way to keeping the waiting lists targets I suppose. Would hate to be in BREECH…whoooooooo.

Finally I have met my match in crazy ladies. A couple of years ago I joined a bridge class. I can honestly say my bridge is crap, my chatter is incessent and I cannot for the life of me remember to ‘draw trumps’. But I love it.  Two hours of escapism. The new found friends in class. Our teacher. The giggles.  I am the worst. I cannot sit still. I cannot concentrate. We all wear yellow cardies. That relates to a story a while  back. Which got us into the Times newspaper. Here it is: IRENE 

Anyhow, Friday we had our Christmas do. In a pub. We all wore yellow cardies. We drank lime and soda. We had crackers, hats ,jokes and toys. We had Secret Santa.  We played cards. Well kind of…

My present from Santa was a cushion for my ever niggly back…it had an inscription on it!

My ever so serious bridge player mother had given me socks for Christmas…bridge ones…so I wore them. I don’t think she would approve of our style of play however.