Today I had an appointment with the specialist gynecologist at the hospital in Sundsvall. (also known as the arse**** of the universe by my beloved). I have waited 18 months to get this far, with a fair amount of pain and concern along the way. The health care machine moves slowly, not helped by covid. Anyhow, I now have a provisional diagnosis (same one I worked out myself with the help of Mr and Mrs Google) and a few pieces of my delicate parts are off being analysed to make sure. (It is not scary, just a annoyance as it's chronic.) The rest of me misses them... but the discomfort will pass as "we heal quickly there" according to the very kind and thoughtful doctor. She will ring me in two weeks.
She was very good at explaining everything she was up to, and why - not least since she was training a young doctor in his final year. He began the consultation and was very attentive when asking questions and listening to answers - like he was due to be tested on it later. Which I guess he was!! Anyhow, the whole thing was a mere 35 minutes out of my life and was much more reassuringly professional than any of the 4 medics I have met so far on this little trip.
For the record let it be stated that this expert investigation, consultation and attendant medicine cost me about £25 at source. I love the NHS. The same reception would be true for a person on very limited means, or for a millionaire. There is a limit on how much you pay per year for health care and when you reach the £150 ceiling it is free for the rest of the year. There is a similar arrangement for medicine. Over 85 all this stuff is free - generous really as the older we get, the more we use the health service, something that was very obvious from watching the passing trade in the hospital corridors.
Anyhow, this is far too much information! We went to IKEA as we needed three things, two of which they had. We came out with at least 4 more things we had no intention of buying but somehow did. One is a new quilt bag with heavenly blooms on a white background. It was so like the first quilt I had as a three year old that my heart leapt. My quilt was real, genuine nylon and had huge peonies on a white ground, it was slippery and slid about (and off) the bed - but it was magnificently grown up and wonderful. As I write I realise it wasn't the quilt but the satin curtains that were like this new quilt bag, interesting how an old memory - slightly off - gets jogged into action!
As we drove home, I was feeling a bit battered about and ready for a quiet evening. As we dealt with the recycling and the replacement of the two bins after the bin men had emptied them earlier today - who should drive by but our good friends Ann and Mats! Come in for a glass or two, we said. So they did saying "We are retired now, we can do what we like"!. I rustled up some olives and bread and cheese, and three bottles of red that they got to pick from. (They have been doing courses on wine and are getting really knowledgeable) They chose Portuguese over Italian, and in fact the first bottle was from the Alentejo.
We have known each other pretty well for 20 years, Ann and I worked together in a department of two for 16 years, we live less than 3 kilometres away from each other and we get along very nicely. We don't get together as much as we might like as we have commitments of various kinds - but whenever we do this sort of simple thing we have a fabulous time and no prep is needed at all. The conversation flows and we are relaxed and happy. I feel so thrilled to have such lovely people in my life! The stove was lit for a bit of cheer before they decided it was time to make a move. And now it is too late to make real food and it's soon time for bed. And so the first day after the unexpected visit from the Londoners, draws to a close.