The foot is the problem, really. I am running a bit in circles in the health system and do not know if I will be slightly crippled or if something can be done. A number of completely unlucky events have occurred, the worst is that we just got a new, young family doctor that replaced the two fantastic old hags who both retired (They always reminded me of Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg from Terry Pratchett's books), and he is now dead! I do not know how, but the transfer of papers et all is in a deadlock for more than a week, and yes... things are chaotic and I can't find any time for self-pity when I think of his widow and two children. Not to mention all the people in Ukranian subway stations, starving people in Afghanistan, and the war in Yemen. Ha! You started me on that sorry tale.
So to sum up... I'm OK, but a bit encumbered and longing to be able to go for a walk. Better times will come soon I'm sure.
I imagine you as very active physically, given how active you are mentally.
I now look for older doctors. The younguns are not as receptive to a patient's needs. Good luck with all that. Getting medical care is so much more difficult these days. More paperwork, more waiting for appointments, less time with doctors, more stringent restrictions. It's a terrible time to have any kind of strife.
Never read Terry Pratchett. I'm putting him or her on my library list.
Yes, I always was out and around, so this last year has been hard. As for older doctors - when we were very young and moved to Copenhagen from Firenze where we had been living together, my wife choose the oldest, male doctor for us. He was the sort with suit and tie underneath the white doctors coat and a well kept white beard. When he asked her why we had chosen him, she said that she didn't want some young, hysterical skank as a doctor. When she left the consultation his sweet, but mummy like secretary who was operating out of an old closet in the tiny apartment that had been converted to a clinic asked her what on earth she had said to him. "He hasn't laughed for years," she said.
Oh, I'm gold baby, pure gold. But I don't blog about my mountains of gold. I blog about my rivers of silver.
hey speaking of silver, are you still working on that lost wax silver medallion?
Well... I am three Kickstarters behind :( I will set my brother in motion!
The other two are my second Phill album and a project with the Nigerian guy called Nevies who i got in contact with on this network.
Three kickstarters behind! Three books in the works! How's your foot doing?
The foot is the problem, really. I am running a bit in circles in the health system and do not know if I will be slightly crippled or if something can be done. A number of completely unlucky events have occurred, the worst is that we just got a new, young family doctor that replaced the two fantastic old hags who both retired (They always reminded me of Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg from Terry Pratchett's books), and he is now dead! I do not know how, but the transfer of papers et all is in a deadlock for more than a week, and yes... things are chaotic and I can't find any time for self-pity when I think of his widow and two children. Not to mention all the people in Ukranian subway stations, starving people in Afghanistan, and the war in Yemen. Ha! You started me on that sorry tale.
So to sum up... I'm OK, but a bit encumbered and longing to be able to go for a walk. Better times will come soon I'm sure.
So sorry to hear all that!
I imagine you as very active physically, given how active you are mentally.
I now look for older doctors. The younguns are not as receptive to a patient's needs. Good luck with all that. Getting medical care is so much more difficult these days. More paperwork, more waiting for appointments, less time with doctors, more stringent restrictions. It's a terrible time to have any kind of strife.
Never read Terry Pratchett. I'm putting him or her on my library list.
Yes, I always was out and around, so this last year has been hard. As for older doctors - when we were very young and moved to Copenhagen from Firenze where we had been living together, my wife choose the oldest, male doctor for us. He was the sort with suit and tie underneath the white doctors coat and a well kept white beard. When he asked her why we had chosen him, she said that she didn't want some young, hysterical skank as a doctor. When she left the consultation his sweet, but mummy like secretary who was operating out of an old closet in the tiny apartment that had been converted to a clinic asked her what on earth she had said to him. "He hasn't laughed for years," she said.
My wife was (and is) such a loony.
As for Prachett he is an easy and funny read.