It is July. Whoop. Matt Hancock wrote  to say shielding is extended until August. But in addition to going out for an hour socially distanced walk we can also see 4 or is it 5 or 6 friends 2 metres apart, or is it 1. No idea. Anyway it was signed: ‘Matt’ Great. He did not tell me I could have a hair cut . But he did not tell me I could not. So guess what? thanks to the very awesome Lina I got my head chopped off….well the hairier bits she wearing her full PPE, me in mask and chattering all the time. 

Bladderations infection hit at the beginning of the week. Jerome was quickly on hand to make a plan. I started the heavy duty gentamicin which bastes the bladder straight away. He then arranged that before, during and after my sacral nerve (SNS) implant appointment with the very lovely Mrs Stimulator, I would get checked out by the team at the ‘tower’. This refers to the green area ( non covid) and the red area at the hospital. Thursday dawned bright and sunny and off I set to London. What a joy to drive my fully charged car down the M1 blasting out spotify tunes as I went. It was not easy to find somewhere to park, the streets of London are busy again. I also had to manoeuvre the car round to hand over urine through the window! ( Don’t ask). Drive to the carpark- with- power and get sorted in the ‘tower’. Driving back up the M1 traffic came to a sensible and well judged slow down as thunder and lightening crashed all around. Was brilliant! D waiting at home wondered what had taken me so long. He misunderstood my messages and thought I was at the Tower of London. Fortunately the Beefeaters had not been necessary and we laughed at the confusion. so much more to talk about than bloody Boris or Matt or any of our usual conversation at the moment. 
 My waiting for a referral list continues: Tooth-with-drill-in-it still has the drill in it! Finger which locks into a ‘trigger’ is still triggered. Now I have the waiting for a new SNS to add to it. The obsolete old one at last deemed obsolete and needs replacing. Doh. These are minor points but I really cannot see how poor folks with much more serious complaints can be coping. It is a standstill. Nothing happening not really open for business yet. 

It being Wimbledon fortnight MJ and JES are coming over for strawberries and pimms in a re-enactment of our trip at crack of dawn last year. Then, we sat on Henman Hill and sat on court 14, we chatted to the men in tight white shorts, a story for another day.  We did not chat to the annoying ladies  on 14 who insisted on chatting, and scratching, through every point. 
What fun it was. MJ driving. Me navigating through the streets of London. As a student I had learnt to drive at Kings Cross, prior to which, at my father’s insistence I owned a mo-ped to get around student life. My father felt I was more inconspicuous on a bike.  I loved it and learnt all the streets and side streets on my version of the ‘knowledge’.  So I best be off now to negotiate my way to the garden, find my Wimbledon towel, bag and last years’ lager plastic glass which I will hold aloft as trophy tribute to jollier times….