Thursday 29th April 2021

Day two of the great investigation into what is wrong with my shoulder. Even if day 1 didn't go to plan, day 2 should be better.

The Canterbury appointment was on insurance, this one was on the NHS, would there be any difference, other than the waiting time?

We shall see.

And for this, I would have to go to Thanet, a place I have not been to for over a year, maybe nearly two.

I think.

And as in the middle of Thanet is a large "shopping centre" or "mall" as Americans would say. Its Westwood Cross, a huge collection of big box stores and car parks, normally in unCOVID times, this is nose to tail with traffic, so for a twenty minute drive, in theory, you have to decide how long to allocate it: one hour, two hours?

Jools said to give it two hours, as I had to be there at ten, which meant leaving home at eight, and drive to Whitfield then along to Sandwich, then to Ramsgate and join the queue to inch towards the hospital on the other side.

As it happened, the queues weren't there on the way, meaning I had a 90 minute wait in the car park.

I put the radio on.

I twiddled my thumbs.

At half nine I went to check in, maybe sit inside?

Oh no, you can only enter the building five minutes before your appointment.

Sigh.

So, I wander round, doing a botanical survey of the grassed areas and banks and see a wide range of plants. No sign of any orchids, though.

And at five to ten I was allowed in, and after having my temperature taken again was allowed to go to the waiting area.

Where I waited.

And waited,

In time, a nurse asked me to go in, where there were two ladies, one the ultrasound lady and the other worked for the company that made the new ultrasound machine.

I was their test rat.

Eeeek.

So, for an hour they scanned, changed settings, scanner heads and angles. I had to move my arm there, there, then here, and back to there.

And the result was inconclusive.

THere is fluid on the joint, best they could do.

It was nearly midday. And on the approach road to Westwood Cross traffic was jammed. I took the quickest road out and found myself heading towards Canterbury and Grove Ferry. Now, in previous times that would have meant a pint and a bite to eat at the pub, but because of gout, there is no beer. Yet.

I park up, and instead of beer go for a walk round the reserve.

Back in the 80s, I used to dream of having a 200mm lens. I took out a £300 bank loan to get a 70-210mm Pentax one, I thought that had some reach. I now have a 130-400mm, which I thought was great, but its not enough for decent birding. This is quite a crop of a small bird not that far away, shot at 400mm. Not sure how much a 600 or 800 would cost, an arm and a leg I suspect.

I get some not so distant shots, but nothing that will win awards, but they're my shots, and to be out, walking in the sunshine with birdsong all around, was good enough to warm the coldest soul.

I get shots, then turn for the car and into the still biting wind.

On the way back, I stop for a bite at a greasy spoon outside Sandwich. Or, a sandwich in Sandwich.

Which was nice.

Double sausage in half a French stick and a cuppa.

Lovely.

And back home for two, where I should have started work, but my toe throbbed, so went for a lie down with Cleo.

That worked.

Dinner was fritters, with a new combination of herbs and spices, the surfeit of cardamom seeds failed to boost the taste, but fritters are never bad.

And there was enough for lunch on Friday.

A win/win there.

And just like that, it was evening again, time to write, listen to music and chill out.

Not much happened.

Not much to happen.