Do you see what I see?
Another cold winter day. Or, how I spent hours warming a chair in a waiting area. Mix and match.
Yesterday, the “clinic” called; a chance to fit me in with the specialist. In a world of socialized medicine (as in, I don’t really know how much it actually costs), there’s no thought of refusing such an offer. I arose with the sun, prepared myself mentally and physically, and then made my way to the frigid bus stop. Just like the good old days.
Although I arrived early, I still left late. Round trip: seven hours. My “pressures” were normal, the surgical incisions have healed to a normal state, and the high-tech photos of my eyeball (inside only) were normal. There might be a callback, to meet with yet another specialist, but that too is normal.
Last evening, the social media world developed hiccups. Something to do with certain people “seeing” an obvious blue and black garment as white and gold. Pundits, famous entertainers, technical magazines, specialists in colour interpretation; all split 50/50 on the question. Front page news today, replacing the runaway llamas from yesterday as #trending. And to add to the horror, everyone’s favourite Vulcan is no more. A long day, turning into night too slowly.
This could have been, should have been an evening in a restaurant. Plans can change, and ours have. Instead, the meal will be delayed, as we wait for the oven to unfreeze another prepared lasagna. Oh well… next year. Unless someone offers up a “raincheck” alternative. After the lasagna has thawed.
