In other news…
I’m badly in need of some luck.
Not that I believe in ‘luck’ but it’s better to believe in some transcendental power balancing the old Ying against Yang rather than acknowledge that I’m at the mercy of a totally dispassionate universe which just continues to pile on me.
First, I’m feeling a little brighter tonight but I’m pretty sure I ate something bad. And I mean bad. I didn’t feel too great last night thinking it was because I hadn’t eaten much yesterday. Based on how I’ve felt today, pretty sure it’s because I did eat something and it didn’t agree with me. Pretty good idea what it was too. I’d bought a cheesecake and left it in the fridge a bit too long…
Damn me and my love of the occasional sweet dessert…
I’m hoping I’ll have recovered by tomorrow since the debts I’d hope to clear by Christmas (maybe next Christmas at this rate!) took yet another hammering today. Had to book my Mum in to see an ENT consultant. The antibiotic seems to have worked on her most dramatic symptoms of the past two weeks but her long-standing (no pun intended) vertigo and nausea just aren’t relenting and must surely be linked to her hearing loss in her right ear. I think it’s time we got it sorted before our GP can start throwing random meds at the problem. In a normal world, I’d trust our GP but I’ve been there before. Hence why I’m going for an expert assessment. Times like this I wish I’d become one of those sons who have fortunes because of their work in the city… Makes me feel such a damn failure.
Anyway, I made the appointment and was surprising to discover I could get it for late tomorrow afternoon. It’s a 1.17 mile push each way, mostly on the flat. I’ve done it before but it’s a horrible tense business even without COVID-19. Until you’ve actually had to push a wheelchair anywhere, you’d have no appreciation for how little consideration councils give to people with mobility difficulty. Other than people parking on the pavement (or refusing to get out of the way), the thing I hate the most are drains that either run along the pavement (trapping a wheel) or across the pavement, requiring a small wheelie manoeuvre every few feet. Almost as bad are pavements with a camber, meaning the wheelchair always wants to steer either into the road or into a wall. Half an hour of pushing against that and you do begin to feel it.
I’m sure a half hour ride on crappy St Helens Council pavements is going to do much to help my Mum’s vertigo / nausea but the alternative is a taxi and I’ve heard a few too many stories about local taxi drivers and their COVID theories.
If I’m quiet tomorrow, you now know why.
Wish me luck.