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Disappointment…

Written by

Val

Yesterday was a frustrating day.
B had to go to Dumfries in the afternoon to get his cataracts assessed; we had shopping to do, the appointment was at three, and he had to bet back to a driving job in the early evening. So, with time being tight, we set off early. B wanted to get a haircut first; the barbers shut at lunchtime, but he couldn’t remember exactly what the hours were. So we aimed to get there before twelve.
We got there at 11.30. And found the barbers shut for the day. O well, we said, we can fill in some time with shopping at the supermarket before we get to the hospital.
Got to the supermarket. Went to the cash machines to draw out cash. Our cards got refused – both of them, at both machines.
O well, we said, we’ve got some cash with us – enough to get some shopping with; we can sort out the cards later, maybe try another machine.
So. We got to the hospital 45 minutes early. There was a cash machine in the entrance, I tried it, out flowed our money. But, of course, no time to go back for more shopping.
We waited 45 minutes; we waited an hour; we waited an hour and a quarter. Fortunately, we had bought along books and a newspaper. Finally, B got called. Came back two minutes later.
The nurse had explained that he needed to have iris-enlarging drops put in his eyes first, that would make him near-blind for an hour, perhaps more (ah! atropine drops, how well I remember them from my own childhood eye examinations!) She had agreed with him that once the drops were in, it might not be wise to attempt to drive any more at all that day. So, everything was called off and he has to await a new appointment, on a day when he doesn’t have to drive.

So. Home we traipsed, after finishing off the interrupted shopping. B went off straight away to his driving job. I got my supper, washed up the dishes, relaxed. What could I do for the rest of the evening, I wondered? Ah yes – a friend had rung for a chat while we were out on Friday afternoon, and I forgotten to ring him back. Now would be the perfect time for a good long uninterrupted natter.
So I rang his number. No answer; this time, he was the one who was out. I tried again. And again. After the fourth or fifth fruitless try, I gave up – he doesn’t have an answering machine, so I couldn’t even natter to that.

So that was that day. Hopefully, this day will be somewhat better.

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