Well quite a week so far.

GP text was sent in record time confirming what I already knew. Another effing uti. No one seems to know what to do. Doing nothing seems an option. London Mrs Infections/microbiology- lovely-consultant picked up my email. Has arranged an appointment. Phew. She seemed annoyed that she did not already know about the ongoing bladder infection rate. I have not had the chance to explain, I really did not feel she needed to when I am sure she had been sorting Covid infection rates. And how.

Jerome sounded more pissed off than me when I forwarded the result. I am guessing they are all exhausted pissed off and need a break. Best to leave him be for now.

Finger: Went to London on blissfully empty train. Masks and seats a plenty. First time I had been to St Pancras since March 12th. It looks like post apocalypse no one there. Shops boarded up. Dark and empty. Incredibly weird. The roads seem really busy. Restaurants clearly opening up onto pavements. Not many customers and well spaced out. What a very strange time.

I then was temperature checked and hand sanitised before being ushered to see the very brilliant Mrs Hand physio. Cost a fortune, but as NHS is still not able to face to face its all I could do. So finger splinted and hopefully the ruptured tendon will calm down and avoid the surgery offered for a few weeks time. That has taken me all of lockdown to sort out. It feels so much better already. Yay.

Tooth-with-drill in. Spent £350 having the pleasure of the tooth being chiseled and pulled out. Only to be told the drill bit was still there. Mr Endodontist then drilled into the bone to get it out. Put a load of stitches in, wads of lint stuff. Shit. crap. Gin and paracetamol seemed to help. Today feels like a bit I have been in a boxing match. Jab the anaesthetic in. Hook the chisle out, cross to the bone and drill through the uppercut..jaw.

Then, this afternoon some random Mr Urology Registrar from London rang. The rearranged /postponed/ rescheduled appointment with Consultant of about a year ago. Whoever he was, he found it all a bit too confusing and managed to read his screen as he spoke. Ah. He said you are not meant to have a phone appointment today . There is an MDT meeting about you on Monday. We need to decide if you need the bladder implant (SNS) removed as it is obsolete.

Really? No shit #sherlock? ffs.

ERm yes I mumbled. I thought I was listed for a new one exchange with the oldone..

No. He might as well have added: you pathetic patient. What do you know?

. We have to discuss it. So we will ring you or write to you or make an appointment for you sometime after that. We urologists just end up not being able to do much so we have to ask infections consultants to help.

No wonder I have a letter saying my next appointment with Mrs Implant is April 2021. No rush.

I tried to explain I thought I had an appointment with Mrs Infections maybe she would be at the MDT. He was not really on cue for that. . I got nowhere. Said thank you . Goodbye.

I simply give up. This is just going to happen. is it? I could cry…but that’ll make my sinuses run, apparently the drill bit thing causes that.

I may join my friend down the road. She says she wants to run away. This seems a good plan to me. See you!