Today has been the shittiest day in the history of shitty days.
Pardon my French.
I had an appointment at the pain clinic at noon. Parking at the hospital is very difficult and I was warned that I may not be able to drive after the injections they were going to give me. So, after dropping off my daughter’s friend who had stayed overnight, we headed into one of Aberdeen’s Park & Ride facilities. This involves a drive using narrow country roads. We turned off the main road to the B road leading to the P&R – and it was closed due to road works.
No matter, we had plenty of time. I’d head back and take the longer alternative B road. But it was closed due to an accident.
So we headed right in to Aberdeen Royal Infirmary where we eventually managed to get the last parking space in the hospital. It was as far away from the main door as it was possible to be and still be in the hospital grounds. And it was raining.
We were still a little early so we headed for the cafeteria for a coffee before getting to the clinic at 11:55am. I handed over my letter to the receptionist who took it from me, read it and told me, “You’re at the wrong hospital. It should be Woolmanhill.”.
You can imagine the expletives I screamed at myself in my head. The receptionist called Woolmanhill and explained my idiocy. They said if I could get there as quick as I could there would be a chance that the doctor might be able to see me. I hobbled down the stairs as quickly as possible and called for a taxi which got me to the right hospital for 12:15. I had to wait until nearly 1pm to be seen, but I got my injections, six or seven of them, and we then walked into Aberdeen city centre – not far.
Lunch in M&S was nice and we nipped into WH Smith to buy magazines before heading for Union Street to catch a bus back to the hospital where I left the car. A couple of young girls got on the bus with us. They had a baby in a pram and took over the front of the bus which was, I suppose, fair enough. One of them was having a conversation on her phone. Loudly. While eating a Big Mac & Fries with one hand. I mean, this girl had talent. She would shove her gob into the fries and chow down like a cow while blethering to her pal on the phone. A charming girl.
It was still raining heavily when we got off the bus to walk the half mile to the car, but we got there and we are home in one piece.
And I have found a new home for Wendy and she will probably be leaving us by the end of the week.
I know this might not sound like much, but it felt like a lot at the time. And my heart is broken at Wendy going, but it’s best for her and for me. I’m not fit enough to give her the life she deserves, but I’ll miss her.
Sorry to moan.