Where were we ? Boris? Brexit? Covid? BBC. Ground hog days nothing has changed to that lot.

Meanwhile breathing has continued to be an issue. The ridiculous cold turned into ridiculously wheezy chest infection. Dr Lungs has been brilliant. Offered hospital admission. I refused. Suggested more steroids. I accepted. Antibiotics? Oh yes I said. That’s bladder support too! His incredibly communicative pa has texted every day. Breathing. ? Check. Peak flow? Check. Oxygen levels? Check. She even sent knock out cough opiate stuff . It arrived in the post beautifully wrapped.

This week is better. I went to see Mr Lungs yesterday. He is concerned. Seems his patients should be breathing. We talked it all through. He texted Jerome. He wrote to Mr Nephrology. We tried to blame covid. We tried to work out poly pharmacy. I think that means drugs interactions. Drugs a medic prescribes but doesn’t check what other medics have added to the mix. Seems like a blood pressure tablet might be dodgy. He asked if my GP could be helpful. That’s a no since Saintly GP has moved to higher office, I don’t even know who my GP IS. Then we discussed the future. It is possible this asthma stuff will not be so bad again. However the NHS may have some some special infusion that can be administered. Quite how that works I have no idea. At this rate I’ll be doing iv lines for bladder one week lungs the next. I’m not sure what I think of this future scenario. Scream? Check. Laugh? Ok.

A few of us listen to Fi Garvey and Jane Glover on their “Fortunately” podcast. This week the chatter is particularly good. Not least the references to “jugs”. This reminds me of a particularly dull professional CPD accreditation lecture, a load of we teachers known as AST had to attend. No idea what AST stands for any more, but it’d be advanced- something -totally -unprofessional -very -tired -at -the -end -of -a -long day -teachers. An earnest technology teacher had come to show how some digital scribe projector thing worked. Poor guy. The only word he could think of to write was jugs. The stifled snorts of laughter grew so bad some of us actually left the room tears of laughter falling down our faces. Indeed my friend “AST media “ then requisitioned the tea trolley. That she pushed into the lecture hall in the style of Acorn Antiques. Things just never improved and we never did know what digital innovation we’d regret not using.

A café on the West Coast!