OKOKOK

The clamour has been deafening so I carry on (it's only gossip about me, by me, anyway).

Re: Ann The Doctor, on his rounds this morning, asked her if she'd like to go home. She was very quickly on the phone to David who organised her collection from the ward and she is now back at the apartment. Home.

Where was I? Oh yes, planning lunch with Lary. I cancelled. I sent her a txt at 8am yesterday (after a sleepness night) saying that I had a sore throat and was going to spend the day in bed until it would be time for work. Which I did. She sent back a "get better soon" ditty. Very nice. At work Beryl took pity and fetched me some lozenges to take. I had them all. 6 of them. All within the space of an hour or so. I'd also overdosed on Vits C and D through the day in an effort to minimise collateral damage due to the effluent problem (the stink) in the toilets. It's how I react to strong smells, I get a sore throat then a cold. Even a lady's (strong) perfume can trigger the reaction in me if I allow exposure for long enough. Anyway yesterday a lorry came; one of those things bristleing with pushers and pullers, suckers and blowers, brushes and dusters and a bloody great big tank to gulp the sludge into. Salvation. Er, no. They told Favio that "you gotta break, mate, in yer pipe. You need t'dig 'ole and put some band-aid rahnd it. Not our job, nuvver lorry, diff'rent union."

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