So - I had my first day of physio on Monday for my knee (which I injured 12 years ago wrecking my car and have injured about 987987 times since). Had it down at King's College Hospital, which is just down the street at home. There are signs all over the hospital stating that if you have the flu, you should stay at home and dial NHS Direct, blah blah blah - it's a little late for that, isn't it? Anyway, I sit around in the waiting room with a whole random collection of little old ladies and gentlemen and eventually a doc calls my name. He's wearing two very prominent hearing aids and is accompanied by an older woman who sort of trails along behind. She seems a bit old for a student, but, you know, people are living longer these days and all. Turns out he's deaf and she is there to mouth back what I say in case he can't read my lips.
HE SAYS THAT HIS KNEE HURTS!
I wondered why they don't just sign, but then I realized that the physio guy is busy manoeuvring my knee around with his hands, which I suppose would make signing a bit like talking with his mouth full - very rude, I'm sure. Anyway, the whole thing was a bit surreal, and I was diagnosed as having a 'mis-tracking patella', which probably isn't fatal but does hurt a lot. And I got homework. Blah. More of my tax dollars at work. I can't believe the whole discussion in the US over socialized medicine. OF COURSE it should be socialized - it's a basic human right! The NHS may be a pain in the ass, and there may be waiting lists, and it may take 9% of my income, but I really really really like never ever having to be asked if I have insurance, or having to worry about will the insurance pay for something.
Anyway - I saw a woman in a very silly cycling outfit - blue lycra and white high heels. Nice.
And yesterday I saw demonstrated the dangers of trying to lower a sofa out of a first (US 2nd) floor window with a rope. I was cycling to the gym and passed this house with a number of people leaning out the window. They were trying to lower a sofa to the ground (as I'm sure there was a very narrow stairway going up to the floor - we may have to do the same thing when we finally move). Apparently, they got the sofa swinging a bit too much. There was a tremendous crash of broken glass, as the sofa went right in the ground floor window. Oopsie - I'll be their neighbours will appreciate that!
And I've been trying to cook up my autumn bike trip. I thought originally I'd cycle over the Alps from Switzerland to Italy (Bern to Milan - I know people in both places), but I think that's going to have to wait until next summer, as I don't want to get snowed under on a mountain pass. Coast of Spain maybe? A bit far on the train, but tempting. There is always this country. Hmm - October in England. Yeah, that's going to be sunny and beautiful. Ireland? Even closer to the Atlantic and sources of endless rain. Could cycle down the Rhine - very doable from here. There is always that whole pesky language issue, but I'm sure I'd manage. You know - just speak English very loudly and slowly. They like that - esp in France. I've been trying to get David, or even Robin to go with me. Yeah right. Sigh. Perhaps I could get them along behind on roller skates with a bungee cord attached.
Anyway, I have to leave soon - bike home and cut my hair, which is getting a bit fluffy. David pointed out recently that it has gone entirely grey on the sides and that the top is quite balding. How loving.
Blah.
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