I’m being punished

Bali, Sanur 2017 © PJ Croft

I’ve been to see the GP this morning. I’m still pissing razor blades, so different antibiotic prescribed.

But my main complaint is about the pain specialist. I had the CAT scan on 28 October and the MRI scan on 8 November. I’ve heard nothing from him since. For crying out loud – literally – how long do I have to endure this pain?! Why doesn’t he say something?

So the GP phoned the specialist’s office and it seems I’m on the list for an appointment – in January or February!! Fucking hell! I’m having trouble enduring this pain and the thought of having to wait another two months, at least, is unacceptable.

I said I want referrals to three other pain specialists in the hope that I might get in with someone who cares in a reasonable time. The GP has asked the radiological clinic to send him the scan results and he will let me know the results. But he has to wait as well. Shit!

Meanwhile, the UTI is still present, so I’m starting another antibiotic.


After that, I went to the Vinnies shop to drop off some unwanted clothes and books. But they wouldn’t take them – something about their bins not being cleared. The lady very kindly took them (walked them around the corner) to the SCF shop but she said they can’t take them either. So she took them up the street to the Salvos’ shop. I don’t know what happened after that. I’ve still got a load to get rid of but it seems to be hard to get anyone to take them.

These are the wardrobe full of clothes that my former partner very kindly left behind and despite several years of pleas to come back and take them away, she won’t. I’ve had enough. Out!


I finished the fifth series of The Crown on Netflix the other night, and unfortunately it cuts off unexpectedly as Diana is considering going to St Tropez at the invitation of Mohammed al Fayed, where presumably she will meet up with his son Dodi. I wonder how long we’ll have to wait for the next, sixth series?

It’s still very good. Imelda Staunton is magnificent as the Queen, very regal and intelligent. The guy who plays Prince Charles is not quite convincing, but pretty good.


I saw this outside the pharmacy just now:

What is it? It’s a Morgan, a very much hand built classic British sports car. I’m not sure which model, maybe a Plus 8. It looks old, but they’re still in production and you can buy a brand new one if you have the moolah. Not for me, but it does look good.


I’ve just found an anonymous envelope in my letterbox, no address, nothing to show who it’s from. I was a bit worried. Inside was a neat letter from a new small bar across the other side of Marmion Avenue, called the 4 Mates Bar and Grill, saying they’ve applied for a late opening licence between 21 November (tonight) and 19 December, to show the FIFA World Cup.

Fair enough, I’m pleased that they would go to this trouble to let me know. I might even drop in. This place has only been open a few months and I’ve noticed it recently. This is a very UK/Little Britain area, so it could be good.


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