I had to go to the hospital today.In fact, I have been unable to make my last three appointments.Alas, the lifts were broken.The arthritis has flared up , this week the stairs were a long way from the desk and were very hard as it is an old building with high ceilings
I got to the desk,able only to whisper my name.
We were put into a Recovery Room and given water and, after the consultation. we were given coffee and biscuits while we lounged again in the recovery room.Who it is for I don’t know.
The most humorous moment was after I got undressed,the gynaecologist was about to examine me when an alarm went off.Fortunately, I did not have to run out waving my underwear.I was frightened
It was a false alarm not a fire drill.If there was fire I might have stayed as the nurses were all quite small so could not have dragged me out.I felt knackered when I got home.
The staff were all women and a kinder more thoughtful group would be hard to find
Thankful to have made it , I can now take a rest.And I can call a specialist nurse anytime.This is how the NHS us when things go well
“The motivation for the early form of communication probably had much to do with socialization and sexual selection, where “verbal grooming” and even gossip grew to be important. At the same time that Neanderthals were dominant in Europe (around 100,000 to 35,000 BC), a more lightly built Homo sapiens was evolving in Africa and the Middle East.”
“It is this text’s declaration that language stands alone as the greatest accomplishment of man [sic] and it is language, sequentially, that fostered a myriad of cultural products.”
I get out my sewing gear
In the quiet times of life,
When I need to mend the tears,
Torn by stress and strife.
I hold my soul so carefully
And gaze at every part.
I hope that light will come to me
As I wonder how to start,
.I take my needle out
With love thread through its heart,
I scrutinize each inch.
And then I start to stitch.
In the quietness of the night
You heal me all the time
You talk to me in dreams
And I write them down in rhymes.
Another day will come
And more fractures form.
That’s all part of life
Strife ,and mend, and strife.
Keep that cocoon whole,
Till the soul’s completely there.
Then through its love-sewn folds
A butterfly will flare.