Sunday: a long planned trip with son 2 as in BFG, he had fixed bread-baking course in Borough Market followed by lido swim. We tried to behave in our class but in the manner of students everywhere got a bit silly too. No idea how some olives got squished in his Danish pastry! I did find some apricots in my cheese foccaia!

Monday: the dreaded spinal scan results. Saw surgeon, father-of-6, aged 1 to 29 and he has a Thames barge. Of course.

We went over the scans. No fracture or infection . HURRRRAH. BUT… The fusion screws are rubbing against the facet joints which is causing the big pain. Not keen to do surgery. Good. Plan is to up painkillers but I flatly refused to even talk about the bloody mind zapping ones. He agreed they probably don’t work just make me muddled, foggy and short term memory loss. Which I have anyway!

Furthermore, some infection on spinalstabiliser. But that’s not a big deal. Called me a higher functioning spinal patient. Whatever the hell. Others, he said would be in wheel-chair. I think he only said that to pysch me out. Get a grip….swim, physio, pilates, keep doing those.

Next day, Tuesday: another trip to London to see Pain Consultant known as the Baron. I have known him for years. Well, nearly 10 to be precise. He’s notoriously grumpy, direct and has reduced many a patient to tears. He is however the best. He is indeed fabulous, kind and funny in the operating theatre, I, for one, know that only too well. So, in fact we get along fine.

He was so so thorough. So insightful. Much as a electician sucks his teeth and tuts at the work of previous electricians, he was not that happy about events. “if he has moved my implant wires I’ll kill him” he grumbled as he read the carefully ordered clinic letters I had remembered to bring. I manage to stop chattering and let him read and mumble in peace. I learnt that years ago…he doesn’t like chatter! I just sort of chuckled quietly, kept handing him notes. His implant? I thought it was mine. Ah well.

He even managed a joke or two. Reading Dipstick’s last Clinic letter which lists no less than 25 items of concern, he grinned, looked up and said ‘sonotmuchwrong with you then’! We laughed. Well, he did.

Anyhow. He’s worried his implant is wiggled, nerve test needs doing and another CT done straight away as the last one didn’t show the bit he needed. Need mri but in fact probably cannot do that because the metal implants + magnetic fields = disaster. Radiation again. Am I bovvered? Actually yes. But what do I do? So he ushered me to his very brilliant secretary. Barking out instructions… then grabbed the next patient. As he passed his office he pointed at me telling the nervy looking patient , “this is the lady who has delayed mywhole clinic.” We all laughed… Well, actually he did! Patient 2 and me sort of looked sympathetic at each other! Others might cry. Not me!

Walked the walk of shame through the now crowded waiting room and…

Had the CT.