Seven Days of Rest : And a Missing Building

22 Jan

Don’t panic ladies and gentlemen you’re not seeing things.  😀  This is a repeated post.  Some strange sites kept viewing the old page so I took a bit of drastic action and copied it, gave it a modified title, then deleted the old.  Hopefully that should throw the spammers (?) off the scent.  I’ve kept the old comments as part of the text.  Hope this works.

7 Days of Rest – and a Missing Building

When we last spoke…when was it?  Sunday?  Yes, definitely Sunday. Well at that point things were bad – we hadn’t made the trip to Tinto and the walk around the local back roads could, at best, be described as moderately miserable.  Things sort of went downhill from there.

By Sunday I’d more or less recovered from 3 weeks of some sort of flu virus, stomach upset and sinus “toothache”, though the last was still causing another feature of the past few weeks – loss of sleep.  That was up until Sunday night when there was a riot of ferocious burping and general abdominal pain which continued into Monday.  Then the real heavyweight stuff began.  Not only was the bowel irritable, it was thoroughly pissed off.  My erratic eating, or not, over the past few weeks had sent it into a state of nutritional despondency and it was more than ready to let me know about it.  It sent aftershock upon aftershock through its lengthy plumbing system, bitterly complaining about its mistreatment.  Yet another sleepless night on the settee…and the disquieting prospect of a few days of abdominal aches and recuperative yoghurt until the tummy beast quietened down again.  I was told I was phoning the surgery for an appointment.

I had been told I was phoning the surgery for an appointment for, oh, about 2 weeks now.  But I was sure I was getting better so hadn’t bothered.  Someone’s patience was running out and I was given the hard stare this time.  The hard stare means it’s time to pick up the phone.



It always happens this way.  I was feeling better today when I started off for the local health centre for my doctor’s appointment.  Our old house was only a hundred metres along the road so I knew that area pretty well.  I decided to go in the back way – always easier to park.  I spun the wee Fiat Panda into the street behind the Heath Centre…to find no way in?

Finding no way in was the good bit.  The bad bit was – there was no health centre!  The building had gone!  (you may have gathered that I haven’t been ill very often)

OK, I had 10 minutes to find to where my errant health centre had been trans-located.   It was a decent size so it couldn’t have wandered far.  I began my search nearby.

Fortunately the new one had been built next to the old one…with the old one subsequently demolished to provide a car park for the new.  Logic once more triumphs over panic.

I checked in and sat down waiting to be called.  There was some sort of beeping then suddenly, on the big screen across from the seating area, my name was to be found running across the screen like a breaking news headline with the words healthcare assistant below.

Very nice.  But what did it mean?  Was I to run around the building until I found said healthcare assistant and bring it back to collect a prize?  Or had I inadvertently changed job?  I stared blankly at the revolving message, jaw on floor.  And what in the name of the wee man was a healthcare assistant?

A nearby door clicked opened…a shepherds crook sneaked out…and I was unceremoniously yanked into the locked surgery area by the doc…or healthcare assistant…or whoever.

My vital signs were checked and I was certified alive.  Excellent.  No obvious problems requiring medication.  Even better.

“How do you feel?”  The doc inquired.

“Not bad…a bit of an ache still left…and kinda tired.  Managed to lose a fair bit of sleep…oh…and weight”

The doc scribbled.

“Right, I’ve signed you off for a week”

“Whit?”  “This is the best I’ve felt in almost a month…and have you ever seen daytime tv?”

“You’ve been ill for a while and need to rest up before going back to work…”

I cut in explaining that I could bring forth witnesses (my in-line managers) who would be prepared to swear under oath that I would have to work harder at home.  But she wasn’t for relenting.

“and you don’t have to watch daytime tv.  Go for walks.  Make some nice meals.”


“Walks?”  “Did you say walks?”


“A week….any chance of two?”

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7 Responses to 7 Days of Rest – and a Missing Building

  1. annienz says:

    That is …. to say the least ….. bizzare …. to have you name flashing across a screen for all the world to see — well, all the waiting room anyways. Surely that is some kind of invasion of your right to privacy about medical issues ???? I’d be wild if it were me!

    I really truely hope that you are on the recovery journey now though. A week of doctor prescribed walking & cooking of good meals sounds like the perfect treatment plan for you though!!! Have fun.

  2. Florene says:

    Unbelievable! Maybe next time your vitals and diagnoses will be broadcast, too, then you don’t even have to go into the inner sanctum at all. Drive-by (walk-by) medicine, how very 21st Century.

    I have very few medical issues, and am really lax about making doc appointments for regular check-ups. A few years ago, in my early 70s, I began to have mysterious digestive problems and acid reflux. Nothing had changed, so what gives? Aging, doggone it! I tried Probiotics, a formula that requires two capsules in the AM, and one in the evening (with meals). I now have no problems. None of this was the result of a doc’s advice….. just me doing some online research. Probiotics are not expensive, and not harmful, strictly OTC supplements. I also learned that Probiotics are not new, I was just behind the curve. You can read about mine, and decide if something like that is worth a try:

    How’s that for some maternal advice? It’s free, too.

  3. Florene says:

    I just posted a message…. or thought I did. I’m not going to reconstruct it, but it was about some digestive problems I began having a few years ago, without any cause, without any other change in diet or lifestyle. After some research, I learned a Probiotic regime might help, or it certainly wouldn’t hurt. It did help, and my problems disappeared in a month or so. Probiotics aren’t new…. I was just behind the curve.

    Here’s what I tried, and have been on for about two years:

    Let’s see if I can click on Post Comment this time (duh!)

  4. fatdogwalks says:

    Annie – most publicity I’ve ever had . If I ever get around to writing THE book I’ll insist that they put “author” underneath as opposed to healthcare assistant. J put the brakes on the walking bit fairly early on. For some reason she seemed certain the doctor didn’t mean hill walking…strange notion.

    Florene – you were spammed . My apologies, for some reason the spam filter demoted you. I’ve reinstated your comment. I’m stuffing probiotic yoghurt down my throat as we “speak”. ISB struck…must have been about 20 years ago. It happened a few times then I sorted out a daily diet which seems to have worked ever since. That’s the first time in 15 years that it’s managed to sneak past and that was only because of my loss of appetite. The “diet” is fairly simple – breakfast is nearly always Bran Flakes (porridge at weekends) and I eat about 3 portions of fruit every day…oh, and I very rarely eat white bread. Seems to have worked . Many thanks for the tips and the link – I’m off to investigate .

  5. I was given the “hard stare” down the telephone a week or so back. It felt pretty fearsome, so I too went to the Docs. I am still under her. She is very pretty. Funnily, the “hard stares” seem to have stopped now…

  6. Simon says:

    Get your boots. I’m on my way.

  7. fatdogwalks says:

    Hopefully your doctor will never read this blog Mr Sloman,

    Hard stares down a telephone ? How interesting…and worrying that they can be sensed! I prefer to cringe at the ones which are visible…there is hope that a single cringe will suffice and thereafter I will be left alone.

    MrP – unless you intend to carry me, my pack…and The Fatdog, I would suggest that waiting a week would be a good idea. Apart from that you would have to sneak us past the wicked witch who guards the door.


Posted by on January 22, 2011 in General Drivel


6 responses to “Seven Days of Rest : And a Missing Building

  1. Simon

    January 22, 2011 at 2:42 pm

    “the wicked witch who guards the door”. Lol. I’ll tell her that you said that.

  2. fatdogwalks

    January 22, 2011 at 3:37 pm

    And I’ll tell her that you were trying to get me to go hillwalking against her express wishes. Then we’ll see who’s sorry! 😉

  3. Florene

    January 22, 2011 at 8:07 pm

    Did you receive my comment about Fatdog’s ecstasy? That’s a great photo of her, and tells it all. Other photos are your usual excellent images, but hers came though with a “message”.

  4. fatdogwalks

    January 22, 2011 at 8:14 pm

    I did indeed Florene…it was in a different post – . If you run your eye up the comments you’ll see my reply 😀 .

  5. Florene

    January 22, 2011 at 8:42 pm

    OK, thanks! I’m not sure about navigating WordPress correctly, and don’t have the time to learn right now. I have one other friend who uses WP religiously, so some day I just might get it!

    Yesterday Clay and I had the pre-procedure prostate cancer conference with his urologist. Choices are limited in terms of complete cancer freedom…. best that can be done is non-invasive, with recovery discomforts. An unknown will be whether or
    not lymph nodes are affected. Surgery to determine that is prohibitive for him. So….. the next few weeks will have this cloud hanging over us. Fortunately the kidney removal was a total success. Be thankful for that!


  6. fatdogwalks

    January 22, 2011 at 9:14 pm

    Sorry to hear the battle still continues Florene. This must be a very hard time for you both. I’ll keep my fingers crossed – give Clay my best.


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