Last week, Murphy's Law was certainly here in force. I couldn't believe it: everything that could go wrong, went wrong!! The shower pump wouldn't switch off, and the electrician spent more than two hours trying to put the thing right. By the way, it's gone wrong again!! Another Murphy attack!
On Friday, I had my immunology consultant (Matt) telling me that I need to go back into Bart's as an inpatient for another two week course of intravenous antibiotics. When the oral ones don't work for a chest infection, the next step is bashing my veins and bruising my arms. Matt also told me that they would be careful this time, given that they nearly killed me with the gentamicin. Hah-I wish I had that disclosure on tape!!I should start wiring myself for sound every time I go in to see him!
I then had Dr. David (the stand-in for Margaret, who-thank God- will be back in mid-June) look me right in the eye and tell me earnestly that I need to remember that I have a very serious genetic condition that will, at some point, kill me. Er-thanks so much for that!! As if I didn't know, and I try not to think about it too much. Actually, I'm too busy trying to stay upright!!
On Monday morning-at 2am- I heard a loud noise, grinding and whirring. It was the shower pump, turning itself on. So I had to get up-I promptly walked into the wardrobe, tripped over my desk and gashed my leg, smacked my face into the bedroom door, and decided that it would be a good idea to switch on the light!So I swore a lot, and turned off the pump, and put some antiseptic on my leg, and
went back to bed. And, wouldn't you know it, the neighbors from hell upstairs decided to turn on what passes for music at top volume? I understand why people attack their neighbors, I really do.
I rang the repairs people and the same man is coming to fix the pump (hopefully) on Wednesday. As you can see, Murphy's Law is still in action. It reminds me of the black dog (depression) that turns up, uninvited, at odd times, and brings a posse with it: all its friends, extended family, everyone who will turn up and bite me on the backside. Perhaps I should give it a name-like Harry. Here comes Harry with his entire family...sounds juvenile, I guess, but does giving it a name make it less obnoxious? I don't know; it's a theory, anyway, so I will test it and let you know.
I did manage to go to the storage unit yesterday. I spent a couple of hours sorting through and tossing out stuff; I was rather pleased with myself. And knackered at the end of it, and glad to get home. We have had some very hot and sunny weather this last week, and I noticed that bright sunlight and changes in the weather really adversely affect my balance. I fell over a few times. That really upset me; I felt as if I was regressing, not progressing. So I rang the physio, who told me that this would happen and I shouldn't let it discourage me. So I felt a bit better.
And I have a bit of feedback about Homes for Haringey: Anna Philippou is no longer our housing manager. And I am not on the list of Homes for Haringey's favorite people (aww, too bad!!). But I did it: I made such an almighty stink about it that they had to replace her.
Maybe I am more powerful than I thought I was. I'm certainly louder!!!!Want someone sacked? Just call me!!
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