Ill 2.

So, as I was saying, it’s not healthy here and D got ill. Jacq had rang NHS Direct who put her through to the pandemic line who took all the info and gave her the code needed to get the Tamiflu. I grabbed the ID needed for us both (she stayed home) and we headed off to the pickup point.

Just off the center of the city was the health centre we needed to be. It wasn’t urgent but then it was 4pm and the F1 was due to start at 5pm. So there was some incentive to ignore the scenery. Leicester is – some say proudly – a multicultural city. The problem is that other cultures may not appreciate what “sunday” is. What we expect is quiet streets, hardly anyone around, being able to move quickly. In this area of the city it was like Saturday. All the shops are open, kids wandering about, people stopping at junctions and having a chat while still in their damn cars and while it wasn’t a carnival it was certainly very lively in an old, slow, treacle-like way. Took us forever. Well, okay, maybe 30 mins longer than it should. I had by now given up on the F1 start and was hoping to see the end. We get to the health centre and I wander in.

A hand.

I have to get past the “guy at desk” but he’s pleasant enough. Then use lots of foam on my hands to be sure I am “clean” and I go through to the waiting bit. After my repeating D’s d.o.b. a nurse comes over to me. I reckon she qualified in the 70’s. She’s pretty old and talks down to me. Her first question “So what are your daughter’s symptoms?” Eh? What? We’ve told NHS Direct, we’ve told the National Pandemic line and you wizened creature want me to tell you? “My wife has rang everyone, we have the code and I’ve left work to come and get it” (which was true. I had moved away from my keyboard). She accepted that. Then she shows me the leaflets, packet of Tamiflu etc and as I take the packet she sees my hand. “What’s that?” I told her it’s a steel ring. “How did it get there?” I was bored one day and wondered if I could get one in I reply (which is the absolute real honest truth). She then says it makes me look like I’ve been to prison and they are tracking me (that’s a new one) and from that moment on she talks to my hand. Really. Lots of “yeah, I will, she will, okay, thanks, we will, yes, uhuh” as she goes through the big words on the Important Piece Of Paper and eventually I get away. She was one strange staff nurse.
Get back home back going out and round the city which took longer (F1? What F1?) and stopping at a couple of pharmacies to stock up on sore throat spray, soluble painkillers. D is now (it’s about 23:00) starting to feel a little better. Her boss has been called and he has to complete oodles of paperwork and her interview tomorrow is looking dodgy. Not the best start to the week for her but then we all have one and then another and then … it’s how things are.

As for the F1, the BBC stream was interrupted many times so I’ve emailed O2 about my contract and I’ll move.

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