Wednesday, 8 September 2010

I am going to buy a bicycle! I'd forgotten how much fun it was until I hired one in Amsterdam. I do need to remember though, Amsterdam is flat but Cumbria certainly isn't. It was also the summer when we went over there and the winter is fast approaching here. But even so, with that in mind, I went to a bike shop today. When I was a kid, there was a choice of 3 bikes, and if you were a girl, just 2. When I walked into that shop, there were hundreds of bikes ranging from about £100 to over £2000. For £2000, I'd want an engine, alloys, sat nav and air con! The guy in the shop was very helpful, and asked me what I would use the bike for. Was that a trick question, I thought. I said that I just fancied cycling occasionally instead of walking or putting the car on the road. He asked me if I planned to go up mountains. I explained that carrying my packed lunch up was effort enough without a bike strapped to my back! He showed me the light weight racing bikes, with what looked like an inverted ice skate for a saddle; no thanks, I didn't want my prostate removed before I got to the hospital. "Do you want mudguards?" he asked. "Well of course" I said, "I don't want mud on me; why would I?" "Will you be going over rough ground?" he enquired, "because you will need thicker tyres". "Well not unless I lose sight of the road suddenly, or have to avoid some unexpected obstruction" I replied. When I told him the type of saddle I wanted, he said, "don't think I've ever heard of anything like that". He then wanted to know how many gears I wanted. In Amsterdam the bike had 3 and I felt spoilt for choice. He said I could have up to 20 gears and the option of an extra 10 if I added another cog! This was getting silly, I would spend so much time changing gears that I would start to go backwards. What kind of cycle helmet did I want? Did I want footbrakes or handbrakes? A bell or a horn? Mirrors? Warranty? Waterproofs? Panniers? Christ, I only went in for a bike! I gave up at that point, running out of the shop, overwhelmed by choice. Maybe I would get a horse, they're all the same, aren't they?

Did you hear Beverley on the radio yesterday, what a star, she could present her own show. What a lovely person she is, dedicating that song to me; certainly made the eyes a bit moist. xxxx

Went to the surgery this morning to seek referral to Addenbrookes Hospital. My doctor now has to write to her trust who have to agree it; she thinks they will for all the reasons I have given. If they do, then I will no doubt have to visit Addenbrookes before I go down for the big day. They might want to do their own MRI and bone scans also, as mine are getting on for 3 months old now. If the trust do not agree, then I can go anyway, and my trust will have to pay out what they would have had to, had I stayed up here and had the operation. As there is a 'National Tariff' (thanks Sue) for cancer operations, that should make little difference in cost. The paperwork seems more complicated than the surgery right now. So there is not much else I can do except sit back and wait for the referral to be approved by the local trust, then eventually get my first appointment down in Cambridge.

Do you like kebabs? I can only eat them if I have had a large amount to drink and it is dark enough so that I can't see what I am eating. My failing sight helps greatly with this, and they do taste great with some fresh salad and plenty of chili sauce! They are about 70% fat and there are rumours that the meat (if you can call it that) is obtained from just about anywhere. Diseased animals, road kill, missing people, stuff that butchers can't sell and even household pets that disappear overnight. It is all boiled for hours, then the hair removed before being pulverised in a massive mincer. The resulting oozing mass is squeezed through giant sieves, before being cooled and reformed into that thing you see in the photo above. But yummy, they taste good and that's what counts, hey?

1 comment:

  1. That's not a kebab it's Mr Creosote's thigh!!!! Glad you liked the record xxxx


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