Well that was a long old day.
It was a tad wet when I got out of bed this morning and got progressively wetter as the morning went on. But before venturing out into the great unknown, I first had to negotiate the in house rush hour. Thought I'd steal a march on the rest of them and sneak a shower immediately upon rising but fell disasterously at the first hurdle - son needed the bathroom apparently (well there's a first for everything) as he had to get away to work.
No problem thought I. Cup of coffee, he'll be out by then. And he was, but I hesitated (ever so slightly) and lost out to the daughter who seemingly goes in at that time everyday. Humph! Now at this point I should probably explain something about my offspring.
Like the good parents we are, we raised our kids from eggs, nutured them through their formative years and then duly waived them goodbye when they left home to make their own way in the world. Job done.
Barely had we managed to pick out, let alone fit a strong enough chandelier to swing from than the Daughter returns to the fold.
Oh well she'll not stay long.
Then the son makes his way back accompanied by his girlfriend and her dog.
No problem, they'll soon get their own place.
We are still waiting.
I'm sure we're not unique but there can't be many households who's kids have left home and then ended up with more people living in it than when they started. It's not right, it's not the natural order of things, so little wonder that I get a bit miffed when I can't get in my bathroom to make myself spick and span in readiness for a bodily inspection by my mental Irish physician. Damn those pesky kids.
Anyway I rush through my ablutions and venture forth to battle my way through the great storm. Have you ever noticed when there's a lot of water on the road the other person expects you to drive through the puddle whilst they sail dryly up the centre of the road? If you haven't that may mean you're that other person...........moving swiftly on.
So I arrive ten minutes early and settle in for the long wait (you all know all about that). Hang on they've called me, there must be some mistake, there's still five minutes before I'm due in. No it's no mistake I'm away down the corridor which connects the waiting room with the holding room - surely I'll spend some time here but no, straight in. Shock. Horror.
The consultation itself was pretty unremarkable. My Irish expert inspected his handy work and declared himself happy with it. There were however a couple of little lines from him.
"So how does the armpit feel now"
"Fine" I replied
"Oh a little tight then" says he. I'm still confused.
Then in any other questions:
"Can I start using deodourant again?"
"Why's that, is it causing problems?"
Cue me "Well actually we're sleeping in seperate rooms"
Cue Doc "Yeah that's fine but I wouldn't recommend shaving just yet"
and then he was gone.
So that's the end of that particualr episode and now we move on. A new bit of surgery with a new consultant, this'll be my fourth. In fact this op is so exciting that a new nurse to the department wants to come and watch my performance in theatre - I hope I don't disappoint. But I'm sure we'll hear more on this topic over the next week, so I'll move on.
Having punted home, did a bit of work and then ventured out again to take the final training session before Saturdays big match. The lads seemed in fine fettle and appear up for the cup, well at least they said they were whilst we were in the pub afterwards. Oh yes, we train properly!!
So that was my unremarkable, yet in it's own way, remarkable day. Tomorrow however as they say, is another day and I'm once more off to the hozzie, this time for my pre-op assessment. Forms, forms, forms and needles - need I say more.
But before all of that I have to get in the bathroom.
Wish me luck.
