Wrong hospital ...

26 January

Yesterday afternoon turned into a bit of a nightmare. Jan had an appointment for a bone density scan and she thought it was at the Royal Orthopaedic in Selly Oak. We arrived, parked, paid £3 for 5ive hours parking only to find out we were at the wrong hospital. We should have been at Queen Liz, Brum’s huge new hospital. As we were only ten minutes away we raced off to get there on time. Again we parked up and Jan set off straight away while I sorted out the car; she was five minutes late but they still did the scan, for which we were very happy about.

The plan then was for me to meet her at the main entrance. What I did see when I got there? A WH Smiths and a Costa; Smudges first and I bought Girl on the Train plus another one. Off to Costa and my normal plain black coffee, it was awful! I said I was drinking it outside and they put it in one of those cardboard cup-things they use. Never again! Jan joined me and we set off back to the car and made our way back to the car and off we went. By that time it was just after 4pm and the traffic on the A38 out of town was building up. The M6 wasn’t much different with the variable speed limit signs set of 40mph. We eventually arrived home at just after 6 o’clock.

That new hospital really is huge; I thought the new Walsgrave in Coventry was large, the QE is a lot larger. The reception area is a massive empty space, at least 50 feet high, perhaps more. Jan said she had to walk around a mile to where she needed to get to for the scan. The only down side to place, for me at least, was the silly revolving doors that so many places have these days. I’m always thing that I’ll get stuck in them one day. That’s not happened of course, and it’s the only thing of that nature that has me in it’s grip.

Have you heard of the Black Dog Tribe? It’s one of a number of organisations (this is run by SANE), that supports folk who suffer mental illness and the stigma that comes with it. One of their posts on Facebook yesterday showed pills being stung together. It stuck me that at the time I saw it that I was still on Amitriptyline, and anti-depressant medication that is an effective pain killer at lower doses. I’ve been on them for longer that I care to think about now. I hated taking them in from of other people, OU students at the time and I would them out and take them, hoping that no-one noticed. Why? Anti-ds=mental illness=stigma; go it? At that time, I wasn’t suffering depression, but I still felt some of the stigma that such pills carry, that came several years later. I’ll see about coming off them later when I get chance to make a telephone appointment. One more pill less has got to be worthwhile.

What is it with creative minds and depression I wonder? Robin Williams last year, Tony Hancock, Peter Sellers, Vincent and oh so many more brilliant artists suffered with depression so badly that they killed themselves. I didn’t rate Hancock or Sellers all that much but they are regarded as brilliant comics generally. It does make me wonder just how many more creative minds are troubled with mental illness of some sort. And not just in the Arts either; what about mathematician John Nash, who suffered severe schizophrenia for most of his adult life? How many more are there that we don’t know about?

Let’s go back to yesterday to finish off with. When we arrived back home we had to empty the car ready for its collection this morning to go in for a service. We took it easy getting it done, the car was actually in a bit of mess really. Jan’s scooter was first out; our walkers were next load down with six different coats, mainly mine. Jan brought in one bag that had the two new books in it. Imagine my surprise when I looked at them to find that I had bought two copies of the same book! I couldn’t believe I had done that, even the cashier didn’t say anything when I paid. They are listed on the till receipt as the same book too. I hope Smudges in town are in a helpful frame of mind tomorrow when I go there to change on of them.

And lastly – all this weight I’ve lost has had an unexpected benefit. My waist size is well down, no wonder my trousers keep falling down, so we’ve ordered me some new ones. Some years ago we bought me three pairs of shoes, all size 8; I tried them on they filled me well, but I was wearing mainly trainers then, so when I came to wear new shoes one time, I couldn’t get them on. So then, last night I went through to bed I decided to try on the shoes, and blow me, they actually fit again now. I never thought that fat could build up in my feet.

Today’s photo …

This hunk of metal is outside the reception of the QE hospital.

Today’s funny …

What do you call a ghost who only haunts the Town Hall?
The nightmayor.