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Thinks..........
I've just read Stroppy's entry about going to the hairdressers, and I started pondering. I was growing my hair into pre-raphaelite tresses, but when I realised all I was achieving was a 'mullet' I crept back to my coiffeur and had my usual crop. I have been going to my hair stylist for 19 years, with the odd break due to special offers elsewhere, so we know each other quite well. Like many others I had always given him a tip, and never questioned the practice, that was until his wife had her first baby four years ago. They had been experiencing problems with contacting their midwife, and since they were hoping to have the baby at the hospital I work for I offered to sort everything out for them, which I did. A few weeks later I started working at their G.P's surgery so they came under my care anyway so I was officially 'their midwife'. Since I knew them they did get slightly different care, more home visits etc., but that was my choice. Anyway, baby was born, I did my postnatal bit and that was the end. Next time she was expecting a baby same thing, slightly adapted care , more of the personal touch, all well and goodbye. Musing one day, prior to a hair appointement, and making sure I had money to leave a tip I questioned why do I leave a tip? I pay for a service, why then give more than the stated rate? When I looked after them through two pregnancies etc. I didn't get a card saying thankyou, and they certainly didn't offer to supplement my salary, so why should I pay over the top for him doing his job? So, I don't anymore. It also got me questioning all the other times we give tips, taxi drivers, waiters,etc why do we do it, they are only doing their job. Mind you, I am really chuffed if my patients give me a pressie, but just as happy if it is a card and a photo of baby.
Today is Hubby's Christmas golf meet, so tonight my home turns into a doss house full of inebriated, middle-aged men, as long as they don't stain my new carpets I'm quite relaxed about it.
I could have danced all night
The last few days have been a pain, literally. When I get stressed I grind my teeth, and when I get cold I grit my teeth, so the combination of work being manic and the heating not working has played havoc with my teeth. Over the weekend I knew I had an abcess, I tied all the usual methods of allieviating the pain, but 8.30 Monday morning saw me sitting poised with the phone ready to plead with my dentist to remove the offending dentition, or at least put me on antibiotics, he chose the medication route. It's loads better now.
Christmas shopping yesterday was a disaster, walked for hours, trawled in and out of shops, and hardly made a dent in the list.
Last night was the community midwives Christmas meal, and I wasn't driving. Hurrah. I had a great night, well from what I remember I had a great night. Lots and lots of dancing, a belly dancing contest, I did refuse to enter it but you know how it is, one minute you're sitting there looking forward to laughing at people, and the next you're one of the people being laughed at, but I was rewarded with champagne and thats when things become a bit fuzzy. I blame the antibiotics and ibuprofen, or should I say thank them, 'cos it was a great night!
Dreading going to work. Job-share has been off for two weeks holiday, came back and did half day Sunday, then took two days extra leave, and is now going to G.P with stress, caused by family problems, and has warned me that she may be off until after Xmas. On the one hand I feel really sorry for her, on the other I am selfishly thinking about the extra workload.
Needled
Just before I left to attend a hospital appointment I heard from job-share that she has gone off sick with stress. I attended my appontment and was offered an injection into my hip-joint, hmmm, will it definitely make it better, no, could it make it worse, initially, yes. I had this done 15 years ago, and the first invasion of my hip joint didn't work, it was extremely painful for a couple of days afterwards, but the second one a month later worked a treat. Did I go for it, no, I can't afford to be incapacitated whilst job-share is off. Assured lovely needle whielding consultant that I will return in a month when I will meekly lie there and allow him to push something the size of a small knitting needle into my hip joint, until then its back to the voltarol. Now I'm off to the peridontist, apparently the antibiotics I'm on will allow this mistress of torture to excavate thoroughly under my gums, I'm not too sure about my pain threshold allowing her to do this.
I love days off, they are full of such enjoyable things.
I'm sitting here under a dark, eerie cloud. Yes, I'm ten miles from Buncefield, and the winds blowing the smoke our way. Yesterday the air smelt like a garage service area, today I can't notice a smell, but when I go outside there is a strange texture to the air which seems to coat the tongue. Almost constantly helicopters circle around, doubtless the TV news stations filming the site and the spread of the cloud. All of us were woken by the explosion, soot fell down the chimney, and our reactions varied from an earthquake to a meteor hitting. The sky was a very strange orange and dark grey, quite foreboding, and due to the smoke blocking out the sun all day it felt like the predictions about nuclear winters. With the setting sun it has a strange beauty about it, what the hell is it doing to the environment though?
It's all quite depressing really.
Back garden Front garden
I've made it, no not the cake, that was done weeks ago, I've made it through to my annual leave. With job-share being off now for 4 weeks it has been really, stupidly frenetic. Everyone seems to be having a baby in June/July so they have all needed booking, that in itself takes 1 hour plus, without the driving to the far reaches of my patch, then trying to cover all the clinics, plus the visits, I've been finishing at 7pm. My sloth like body is not used to this.
Monday with the periodontist was tolerable, but the message from my manager on my return was not. Apparently my team leader had forgotten to cover my clinic, and pick up the visits, she had gone to the Christmas lunch instead. It seems that we can take time off for free lunches, but not dental treatment.
My health professional obsessed lady has been in hospital - again, she has now had 31 admissions during her pregnancy. I had a frank discussion with the Registrar on Sunday, who admitted that she is as 'pissed off' with her as I am. We tried referring her for psych input, but she refused. I'm already composing my referral letter to Social Services, I don't think I have ever been as concerned about a unborn baby before, I only hope that SS act quickly.
Going now as Son has just burst in to the house.
Back now. Son has gone off for his footie match,. It's so wonderful now he is all grown up and I don't have to go and stand on the line every Saturday.
Poor old Amy and her Mummy have had this nasty sickness bug that's doing the rounds. I had been looking forward to my day off on Thursday when the phone rang at 7.30 am -
'I'm sorry but I am being so sick I can't look after Amy properly, can you have her?'
Her Daddy dropped her off on his way to work. Two hours later Jack and his Mummy appeared -
'Hi. I'm on a night tonight. Could you look after Jack so I can get a sleep?'
Luckily they were both really good, the highlight for Jack being helping to change Amy's nappy and seeing her wee everywhere. By the time they had gone, we had eaten dinner and done the supermarket run it was 10pm, and I was shattered. Then my work mobile rang, I ignored it. Huge guilt trip ensued 'cos it was one of my homebirths. At the time I reasoned that I couldn't go cos I had a massively full clinic in the morning and I was the only one on for my team the next day. After clinic I visited her at home and found out that she had given birth at 11pm, I could have gone as I would still have had a sleep. Guilt trip reappeared.
Off shortly, when the plumber has been, central heating still only partial, to buy Christmas tree. This generally causes major disagreements as Hubby is certain that he is choosing the tree for Trafalgar Square, whereas I believe that 8 feet is quite large enough for our house.
Happy days.
Seasonal celebrations
Saturday night C had her traditional New Years Party. Ages ago she and her other half arranged to go to Portugal for the New Year, then she found out she had Non-Hodgkin lymphoma. It completely changed her view on where she wanted to be this New Year, but in-laws were expecting her so the arrangement remained. C has become more and more unhappy about not doing the same as usual, she is sure this will not be her last New Year, most of the time, but then other times she is not so optimistic. Hence all of us bringing forward our revelries. A good time was had by all.
The Christmas tree has been up 2 days now, and so far the kittens are paying it little attention. I have put all the non-breakable, non-sentimental ornaments on the bottom though, just in case.
So, the Beeb have shelved the digital head, and what have we instead? Lots of small children walking up and round a giant Christmas tree, no guard rails, no safety netting, how did they get that one past Health and Safety? I sit there mesmerised, waiting for the first one to fall off.
Today I shall finish the Christmas shopping - haha. I can always dream though.
Causes
For the person who has everything, why not try this.
On Monday visitors arriving were telling me that there was a police car outside, as long as they weren't in here I wasn't worried. Then today the elderly lady from next door phoned up to tell us about the funeral arrangements. I rushed round and after a long hug heard her sad news, she had found her husband dead in bed on Monday morning. She said what I was thinking ' What a lovely way to go, in his sleep.' Her loss is immense though, and her constant replaying of her movements Monday morning, switching the phone off upstairs so as not to disturb him, doing all the housework and ironing whilst he 'slept in', and then finally going up to wake him with a cup of tea and toast, and finding that he was not sleeping but had gone for ever without her saying goodbye, gives me an insight into how her mind is constantly examining her last moments with him. I invited her round, but now comes the real arrow to her heart, she is waiting for a call from the coroner, they are doing a post mortem today. This man had been ill for years, cancer, asbestosis and a heart attack a few months ago, but they have to cut him open. Not just that but the police were there for a couple of hours questioning her, it all seems really unfair.