Real Life, but not me this time

I've got to take my better half in to hospital tomorrow for an angiogram. This sort of crept up on me...

"I've just been to the doctor. I've been having these chest pains..."

These pains are above the breast line. Not a clue, and neither did the doctor, so she went off last week for a ECG and a treadmill stress test. (Needless to say, she got further with the stress test than I did. My feet are like a duck's, and when they tilted the treadmill to simulate a bigger load, I couldn't run at all. But I digress...)

The result was "inconclusive". So tomorrow she goes off to the Royal Berkshire in Reading, where they will make a hole and push a catheter up her femoral artery all the way to her heart, and squirt "dye" which will show up on a x-ray. Needless to say she won't be moving about for a while after that. I'll have to go up later and fetch her, which will be about the farthest I'll have driven on my own since giving up work.

Parking there will be fun, too. In common with most hospitals in Britain which are in built-up areas, there aren't enough parking spaces. When I've been as a patient myself I've gone on the train and walked the mile or so to the hospital. When I've been there as a courier, I've parked round the back by Stores, usually beside those black vans with no windows labelled "private ambulance". You know the ones... I won't be able to get away with that this time.

So, she'll come home and have to put her feet up for at least two days. I'm sufficiently domesticated (more than her, actually) that everything will get done, but this will mean that I won't be able to get the next part of State up on Thursday. Instead, I'll try and put it up later today if I can find the time. This also means I have no idea when the next part will go up - and before you say "don't worry", it's almost ready but needs some deep editing before it goes out. (There are another seven already written.)

So, I'll look in when I can, but I may be delayed due to domestic requirements.

Penny

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