Friday, 20 July 2012

I limped back from...

the doctors via our local pharmacy.

In my good hand I carried a bag full of pills & potions.
Whilst there, I remembered to enquire about the cost of their
Miss Tena bed pads
'For the dog you understand!'
my dulcet tones reverberated around the Weald.

'Yes, yes of course!?!'

They did go through the motions 
(oops sorry, couldn't resist it)
of suggesting that in these straightened times, the vets might
be worth a try.
'Vets?' says I.
'Their prices are on a par with estate agents!'

'Mothercare then!'
Now you're talking.

Getting to the nitty-gritty; for my sorely thumb,
the doctor suggested I get a thumb splint.

 Elizabeth Bott-like, I discovered that the cost of the appliance would be 
nearly 40 quid.  Forty pounds!
A wave of nausea swept over me as I hung with good hand on the counter.
Perusing the Surgical Appliance Catalogue I was dismayed to learn
that the only colour was flesh-grubby-looking-pink. 
'For that price I want a rainbow range from which to chose my
latest must-have accessory!'
I declared in my best majestic Lady Docker tones. 

The doctors advice was not to use my right hand for
at least two weeks.
'Just in time for the Olympics, Ive already been in training!'
I said visibly brightening.

'Yes, Linda, just don't forget to put your flute of Champagne on the left side!'
She's a good doctor and one who unfortunately knows me too well.
She has to get me in for annual visits by using emotive words like...
Trust you will come!

As a consequence of my morning's visit, I now won't be able to
start on my corsage, knitting, crochet, tatting or any of the
other planned projects.

As I sink into the clutches of my boudica chaise; 
just pray it doesn't get a severe case of chariot fatigue.



  1. chatting to a fellow A&E waitee once who was of a different ethnic origin, we got on to talking about artifiial limbs, as one does.
    I was bemoaning the fact that National Health Pink is such a vibrant colour, like crushed raspberries mixed with Germolene.
    The pink's not too bad he said, the black is a bit like gravy powder, but the brown- I have a brother with an false foot and it looks like he's permanently standing in a dog turd!!!!

  2. I wonder which appliances are free on the NHS and which aren't? Obviously not thumb splints (forgive me but you have given clues that you are around my age). Poor Mr N left the chemist's shop with a prescription the other day, almost in tears. "He said I didn't have to pay, " he blurted, "He said I was...Over Sixty" Join the blooming club, boy!

  3. Elaine, don't get me going about the brown and smellies. The doctor knows me so well because I worked as a receptionist there. After two years I discovered I wasn't pale and interesting enough, being ruddy and rumbustious just doesn't cut the mustard - don't know why? Any road I digress... did you know they have a turd recognition chart? Bit like I spy books of yore.

    Nilly, I'm (her voice drops to a whisper) 65 in August. The thumb problem is a throw-back from my hitch hiking through the Sixties in a haze of.... Babycham.... Oh alright.... I'll come clean.... Cherry B.


  4. Hi, another laugh out loud moment, even your comments are hilarious. Oh and have your read Gillian Mckeiths stool analysis? Yes I know you are wondering why? Hope the thumb heals quickly - remember there is always straws! Oh no I remember Cherry B, what about Pony and Barley Wine!!! jayne x