I saw Dr Micro a couple of weeks ago. Her clinic is as I have previously described, in grubby building behind Tottenham Court Road. She was of course brilliant. The inevitable infection was detected and since her efforts to persuade the NHS urology team to answer her pleas for help have gone unanswered, she wrote to Jerome. Once more he is back in charge.

The situation is best summed up as this. Infection has simply not gone away despite months of antibiotics. NHS seems paralysed. Insurers refuse to pay. Jerome’s initial suggestion was to drain the bladder, give it a break. This would be best served by a catheter. The volume of emails with 28 attachments in encrypted form, that this idea unleashed, made us think again. I say us because it is Jerome and me making decisions. Taking into account the time, money and stress all this involves.

New plan. Cheaper plan. Ask a nurse to sort the indwelling catheter. If that helps go for the expensive option of suprapubic. Friday I enjoyed the empty car park and empty train ride to London. Trains are so clean. Masks on. No one allowed to sit near. The urology nurse, brilliant nurse, is leaving London today, to return to her family in Greece. Covid, she said, has changed everything. We chatted. She produced catheter. I refused it, on account of latex allergy. Poor her, disappeared off for ages to find a silicone one. I re-dressed, waited and lay in comfort reading my book. A rare moment of five minutes peace. Eventually. Catheter in. Bags of bags…leg bags night bags, carried it all home. Bladder went bonkers trying to expel the catheter. It was tough. Somehow got through the night and after pouring in every potion I can think of, it is calmer. The totally best part is nighttime. The big night bag, siphons it off and I can just slumber on, not waking to the reflux pain going up my back as the bladder fills. At last 5+ hours peace!

Meanwhile, as I have done for the past 10 years, I contacted the product supplier to arrange more bags and support for the catheter. This is usually a brilliant system. I ring. They advise. They contact GP. GP agrees prescription and supplies and brought to the door in plain discrete packaging. Simple. In addition I sent a request, Jerome had suggested a drug to help calm bladder.

Tuesday I was texted to say prescription had been refused. Six hours later and on the phone for most of that time I was no further forward. Rottweiler on the desk totally unable to help. She kept saying: I need a clinic letter. I kept saying I need the bags and drugs.

I pulled rank and emailed the practice manager. She immediately replied with an appointment with a real doctor, on the phone today, sometime between 8 am and 12pm. I am ready and waiting!

Boris addressed the nation last night. Did he really say ‘a stitch in time saves nine’? what? I think there must be many people in very long waiting lists for many conditions. It is extraordinarily tough. I am lucky enough to be well looked after. Indeed using the Alchemist’s vouchers which I have collected in return for the research bid work, I have acquired airpods. Trains waiting rooms and zoom calls are now noise cancelled. Alchemist suggested that was to block out her nagging. Well, maybe! So good are they I did not hear my name called when I went to hand surgeon’s clinic.

Meanwhile, Pocket Rocket and I have swapped coffee texts. I said I ask for skinny- fla-t white- strong. She says ask for extra-hot. Using my newly acquired free coffee app. ( Pret gives you a month free). With 10 minutes to spare before my train I asked for skinny- strong- extra- hot- flat- white ….the barista laughed and laughed. ‘Is that all?’ Don’t forget he added. Cancel your app after a month and open a new account. Free forever!! All this took a bit longer than it should so I missed that train. I think I better ask for plain black coffee next time. However, it was lovely!