That tissue could walk!

Evening all. Just a quick update about my quite mental day. Most of it was spent driving round in circles and squares and dodecahedrons because medicar drivers seem to have lost all sense of direction. Seriously. It's rare that I know where I am, and when I do, you know that everyone else must be extremely lost. Did that make sense? Perhaps not. Anyway.

My day started as ever at 9am when I woke up to take a delicious cocktail of expensive drugs and hormones... Unfortunately there was also the sound of someone knocking at the door. Please tell me it's not a medicar driver. It's a medicar driver. Been sent at the wrong time. They leave without me as I am wearing only pajamas and yogurt and the car is full of patients who are actually supposed to be going to hospital in la manana. Phone hospital. They say they'll phone back. Wait 40 minutes. Phone rings. Sheepish sounding voice... "Is that Miss C---longpause--- Dennis? Yeah, erm, we came for you at the wrong time this morning didn't we... Be ready for half 12, but they'll probably come for you about two..."...

So, I relaxed. Put on an excessive amount of jewelry and began eating sorbet. 12:10, knock at door. It's the ambulance staff. Leave sorbet in rush to get out of house. The drivers are from Doncaster and don't know where anything in Sheffield is so we get hopelessly lost as the satnav tries to convince us to drive into walls. I say we, I knew exactly where we were, the driver was just a bit deaf and I was strapped to a seat at the back of the ambulance. Got there eventually.

I'd barely sat down at hospital when Yusef hurried me away from my solitary-confinement-by-the-drinking-fountain-because-I-am-94%-germ spot to talk to him. He's doubled my antibiotics to help me get over being phlegm central. Had my pentamadine nebuliser too, coughed so much that I a) nearly keeled over and died and b) didn't inhale most of it so I couldn't have my usual reaction to it, so that all averaged out pretty well. Learnt the distressing news that one of my favorite nurses is leaving. Watched Antony make a cup of tea. Nipped to pharmacy. Laughed at someone getting serious lift rage. All standard.

It was the journey home that was truely madness though. If you got in a car and drove home from the Hallamshire it would take you just under an hour, perhaps even 45 minutes if there was no traffic and you ignored traffic lights. Today's journey home somehow ended up taking over two hours. I don't want to talk about how my bum felt afterwards. It went something like this- Me and Man picked up at Hallamshire--> A nice long route through the steepest hills in Sheffield to the Northern General hospital--> Aquire Man on Stretcher--> Drive to Rotherham for no discernible reason (And I mean no reason- we just drove to Rotherham, in the opposite direction to where any of the patients lived)--> End up on the M1 in a queue (We're now going South East instead of North, slight improvement- we should be going South East)--> Somehow end up at Calow hospital and lose the Man on Strecher--> To Kelstedge first because the lovely old Man made them drop me off first-->Who know where they went when I left! Too the moon and back :D

Took the picture out the window of the ambulance on the way home. You can see my vague outline in the reflection in the sky. Generally god lives in the sky but I kicked him out. Dirty squatter, he was.

Got home and my sorbet had melted. The end.

Bedtime!

Miss Constanzaemia.