The wonderful NHS

Isa We are not amused. went to see the midwife today to get her due shot of anti-D (she’s rhesus negative, these shots protect against the risk (certainty?) of poisoning our next child with her blood).

Anyway, she walks in and the midwife says, “Oh–I rang the hospital yesterday and they said you’d had the shot already, on February the 28th”. Which, of course, she hadn’t. In fact, she was in Italy that day. So now, apart from having to deal with more evidence of administrative ineptitude, she has to go to the Whittington on Friday to get her shot.

Wonderful, innit?

Tempus fugit

We need to get a move on with these house improvements we have planned. If Isa is four weeks premature (which we’d rather she weren’t), then we only have about seven weeks — and it looks like it will be two weeks before Mike can start the work.

There’s the kitchen sink to replace, and the basin in the bathroom; then the old stove to rip out of the kitchen fireplace/alcove; then the dead space in the hall to unwall and turn into a cupboard. Plus, of course, the living room floor to finish and walls to decorate…

Easy-peasy. 😐

Well, it’s another incentive to wish Grandma a speedy recovery. Though, oddly, one that inspires a certain amount of guilt. What a silly species we are. Or is it just me?