Pandemic or mass hysteria???

I think I might have bronchitis. At the moment it feels like a very rough cold but I'm feeling like I did last year when everybody I knew kept telling me to go to the doctor's, and I kept telling them to bugger off 'cos there's no point bothering with a doctor for a cold, as you just have to let it run its course. About four weeks later I was half dead in bed, stuffed with antibiotics for bronchitis, tonsillitis and some other "itis" I can't remember.

Anyway, this time I thought I'd see the doctor sooner, before it blows out of proportion, so I went to the surgery. I glanced at the notice on the door saying that if you had certain symptoms you shouldn't enter the surgery but call the helpline instead, but as I was lacking the main one (i.e.: high temperature), I went in. At the time I went there I was actually feeling quite ill as I'd been out a few hours and not taken any remedies such as Lemsip for a while, and I'd been carrying shopping. I had a runny nose, a blinding headache and I was aching all over. I also had a slight temperature, but nothing near warning levels. With perfect timing I started coughing just as the receptionist was talking to me and I was telling her the symptoms and asking to see the doctor as soon as possible. This is when her face changed. A look of complete terror appeared on her face, and stepping back from the counter as far as she could without exiting the room through the wall she handed me the national pandemic helpline number advising me to call them. To no avail I tried to explain that the symptoms I had were due to a cold, not 'flu, that I had no temperature at the moment and that it felt as if it was turning into bronchitis like it did last year.
Just to make her happy I did call them when I got home, and after having a good laugh they advised me to go and see the doctor. What a surprise!
The following day (yesterday) I stayed in all day and was feeling a bit better so instead of calling for an emergency appointment I just made a normal one for Monday. By then it will have gone if it's a cold, while if it's bronchitis I can still have the antibiotics.

We shall see.

By the way, if you think you might have 'flu, do not go to see the doctor, but call the helpline on 0800 15 13 100.

You should contact them if If you or a member of your family has a fever or high temperature (over 38°C/100.4°F) and two or more of the following symptoms:
unusual tiredness,
headache,
runny nose,
sore throat,
shortness of breath or cough,
loss of appetite,
aching muscles,
diarrhoea or vomiting.

Please note: unless you have a high temperature, it's probably not 'flu and the antivirals won't work, so go and see the doctor instead :)

The "English" Cemetery

So called by virtue of being a Protestant cemetery and Protestantism being regarded as an almost exclusively English thing :)

It's in fact Swiss-owned and sits in the middle of Piazzale Donatello in Florence. It's the burial place of several artists, writers, philosophers, architects and generally "arty" people from the Protestant world (mainly English as they had a large community in Florence in the 19th century) who chose to make Florence their home. Among them: J.P. Vieusseux, A.H. Clough, W.S. Landor, Frances Trollope and Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

You shall go to the wedding!

And I did, in the end. After my last blog on the matter, my cousin wrote me a letter. I was very surprised to receive it and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't pleased too. Her letter laid a few things to rest and was a clear offer of peace, so I decided I could go to the wedding.

What I didn't count on was that I'd end up as the official interpreter, thus making a complete fool of myself :D
I was asked three days in advance so that gave me time to prepare myself and obtain the text of the ceremony from the City Hall, so I could translate it and then just read from it during proceedings. However, on the day a ready-made translation was shoved in front of me and I was told to just read from it. As this translation wasn't exactly brilliant, I kept half reading from it and half reading from the original text and interpreting/translating the registrar's words and the written text, getting very confused in the meantime.

The worst bit came right at the end, when the registrar ad-libbed a few well wishes. She whispered to me that she'd use simple words so as to make it easier. I thought about telling her to forget the simple words and make short sentences instead, stopping every 2 or 3 so I could interpret, but in the end decided not to as I had the feeling that it would be a very short thing anyway. Wrong! She just started talking and went on and on. I was trying to catch her eye to tell her to stop but failed, so when she finally shut up I'd forgotten the entire thing. Ooops!

I don't know if that was the most cringe-worthy moment, or if it was the one that followed shortly after in the town square, when the bride and groom were doing the rounds with friends and family and we were all milling around waiting to move on to the restaurant. I saw a woman coming towards me smiling, and saying: "Raingod! How good to see you! How are you?".
I think the entirely empty and slightly panicky look in my eyes stopped her in her tracks. I had no idea who she was or how I knew her. She then informed me that she'd spent almost a month at my place years ago, when she was in London. I still couldn't remember. Double oops!

Anyway, apart from those two "minor" details, it was a great day. Cousin looked absolutely gorgeous and the groom and his family are lovely, so the celebrations went really well.

The Crouch Hill gargoyle

This guy seems ready to jump out at you as you go by along the Parkland Walk. Still, I find him quite charming.

Keith Waterhouse is dead

Long live Clogthorpe Council!

R.I.P.

He was the reason I used to buy the Mail.

I bet even the busybodies at Clogthorpe Council will miss him :(