Item – I went to see dear old Doc Tashless (still, currently, ‘tashless). I showed him the Horrible Letter, and explained that I’d never received the previous letter, sob sob. He said ‘oh, well, I had better write to them and get you re-instated then.’ Oh. OK.
Item – I also asked him about the counselling that I have not heard anything back about neither. ‘I’ll ask my colleage where he’s got to with that. Let me check we have your contact details.’ Oh. OK.
Item – He asked me if I wanted anything for my truly revolting cold, and I said no, it’s a cold. A medicated cold lasts for a week, an unmedicated one for seven days. Hah hah hah! said Doc Tashless, aren’t you sensible! And then he gave me the ‘antibiotics don’t work on colds’ lecture anyway, which nonplussed me.
Item – Day 10 of the two-week-wait. Hmph.
Item – This cold is so disgusting. So very, very disgusting. The skin on my poor over-wiped nose gave up this morning, cracked, and started bleeding merrily. It is remarkable how very, very plain a bad cold can make a girl look. Along with the red-raw scabby nose, I have cracked and peeling lips, very dry, flaking skin all over, puffy red eyes, the snotty tissues up every sleeve and in every pocket are not helping, and I am breathing heavily through my mouth like an adenoidal village idiot. Poor H has to come home from work to this. Lucky, lucky H.
Item – On the plus side, I get to sit in a heap snuffling into my hot Ribena and watching elderly Sci-Fi on the telly all by my horrid self. Which would be bliss if I could breathe.