I am so close to committing a murder I do hope you will visit me when I go to jail. Bring gin.
Please.

Monday was the long awaited hand surgery. Surgeon looked so nervous. I guess I had not realised on zoom but in real life he did not fill me with confidence. 

Anaesthetist was awesome. Over-ruled the surgeons’ idea of staying awake. “Horrible” Knocked me out and last I remember was comparing sour dough recipes. He even came up to ward later checked all ok. And asked about my bagels!

Nurses ok. brought bottles of water . No jugs. Covid secure. But I couldn’t open them with one hand. You should have seen me try my pretzel Pilates twister.  It failed! 

Hand doing ok. No longer locked. Yay.

I think I slept all Tuesday. Cannot remember much.

Wednesday. some gp pharmacist had insisted on an “Appointment for Medication” review at 11:00. Well she rang at 2:30 asked if it was convenient. I said no. She carried on. Why was I on this drug?This antibiotic?This catheter?On and on and on. Was this drug for mood or pain! ? Well pain I said but the way this is going can I have some more? for mood. On and on. In the end I lost it. Please go and see my gp I said. He can help you. In fact I cannot get an appointment with him so do let him know I am still alive. She did not laugh.

Then ThuRsday I’d been booked in to see Mrs Micro. In London. But actually she doesn’t have a clinic on Thursdays. Doh! Having sorted that out by email, I was not confident. But sure enough she did turn up. Eventually. Found a room. Went over everything. Sent me to bloods. That nurse kept asking me if I had really seen Mrs Micro. He went off to find her. Would I bloody lie?

Went to pharmacy and I waited so long I fell asleep. Now it’s evening and I’ve found a train hopefullytowards home.

In the midst of all this, our medical insurers are refusing to pay for anything. The private sector has been Covid closed. Meanwhile NHS is unable to DO anything. Jerome and Mrs Micro suggested-doing SOMETHING. I was happy to pay to try to speed it up. Well that resulted in so many encrypted emails. Each of which attached 28 documents. I still haven’t read them all. I cannot fulfill all their Covid secure requirements not least because a. I keep getting trains to London, b) my document drive is now so full it has frozen… I have given up. Cancelled. That resulted in a non encrypted email with 15 attachments. Asking: Was I cancelling?

I lost the plot. Totally. Cannot do this.

In the middle of today, I was working on zoom too, but my very brilliant friends sent funny texts. Not least from she- who -has -yet -to -be -named. Dr Researcher. We’ve worked on zoom a lot. We’ve laughed joked and even teased. But never met. Today she is on holiday in Scotland near my late in-laws’ home. Beers. And gin and waterfalls. And a pub that sells boots. Oh yes. I whiled away my waiting times sending her all my top tips. Henceforth I think she must be called the Alchemist. A person who transforms …water to gin… beer…boots…Medical researcher extraordinaire. She has transformed the zoom meetings into a laughing chatter of knowledge gathering. Actually she says it’s me …the PPI rep!

Meanwhile this train is slowly trudging northwards. The passenger behind me has earphones that are so loud I think I’ll rip them out of his ears. My crashing headache is turning migrainous.. I will stop typing.

Redrum was a race horse. But …
Do you know what red-rum spells backwards?