Well, I’m not sure what Charing Cross Hospital are trying to tell me… but rather than sending me an appointment for spinal surgery, today I received an appointment for brain surgery.
Unless they intend to reach my poorly disc by running a scalpel down the inside of my spine from my brain… I think they fucked up.
Made me laugh though. I’m sure my doctor will sort them out on Monday!
I’m now on my eighth day of being confined to my house and am happy to say that it’s not half as bad as I was expecting. I thought I’d be bored, miserable and depressed. Instead I’ve been hugely busy working from home – it looks like that will keep up, too, which is wonderful – and I’ve had loads of visitors. And then there have been these guys to contend with:
I know they’ll be rehomed at some point, but until then it’s like having my own clown circus bouncing around the house. (Nice clowns, though, not freaky homicidal clowns like the one from Stephen King’s It.)
Last night I watched Top Gun for the very first time (yeah, I know) with kittens snuggled under my chin, purring, and occasionally pouncing on the planes on the TV screen like they were birds. Adorable. Far more adorable than the film, though. I don’t get it – how come it made Tom Cruise a sex symbol? He’s about as sexy as the contents of the kittens’ litter tray!
The best bit was when The Cruiser jumped out of his plane at the end and the 6ft 4in Tim Robbins loomed up behind him and made him look about three feet tall. Ha! It took my breath away, it did.