I should really make more of an effort to blog more frequently to prevent these long, rambling posts (Spoiler: this post is one of those).
So, here are some things that have happened recently:
To kill a bit of time before my hair appointment, I decided to get my bra size measured at the old lady lingerie shop in town. Mr P had pre-warned me that should I do so, I might feel obliged to purchase something. Finding something I would wear amidst the pastel-coloured, full-cup, heavily-scaffolded brassieres would prove nigh on impossible but I went in anyway and when they told me that I was a 30E (I was a 34D twelve years ago), they admitted that they didn’t stock anything in that size. Feigning disappointment, I thanked them and left only thinking later that this might be an obstacle in my future lingerie buying career or could mean that I score some bargains in the sales. We shall see.
I thought I would mention my new size to my annoying acquaintance, Miss G, who flaunts her big boobs at every opportunity and will show her nipple-grazing white bits to man, child or beast whenever she can. It’s a dig and its bitchy but she’s so irritating at times that I couldn’t resist. She cocked her head when I revealed my new size to her (verbally, not physically) and said “you don’t look like an E-cup to me”. I did think that maybe this was because they weren’t constantly on show but thought I’d just answer that I agreed but I wasn’t going t argue with a trained professional’s tape measure, thank you very much.
The yellow Fearne Cotton dress arrived but whilst the colour is perfect and the quality brilliant, the neckline is weird – scooped without being low-cut – and makes me look as if I’m wearing a little girl’s best party frock. Add in an oversized lollipop and pigtails and this could make a cracking fancy dress outfit. Alas, it’s now relisted on ebay and the quest for the ideal yellow dress continues.
More fun and games at work this week when a patient called to chase her bariatric (weight loss) surgery appointment. She has originally been referred in December so I was happy to call the hospital and be told that an appointment had now been arranged for May 5th. I rang the patient back, satisfied that she would be content with only having to wait for another few weeks to be seen.
PATIENT: May 5th. Is that local election day?
Oddly, local election day is not a date I would think to circle on my calendar.
ME: I’m not sure. It’s a Friday.
PATIENT: I can’t go. I’m counting votes that day.
When I suggested that she call the department herself to rearrange the appointment to a more suitable date, she took umbrage asking whether that would mean that she was placed back on the waiting list for her routine, weight-loss surgery. I explained that I wasn’t too sure how the hospital system worked but yes, that would probably be the case for her ROUTINE, FREE, WEIGHT LOSS SURGERY ON THE NHS. Maybe she could try eating less and moving more instead or maybe she could realise that sitting on her arse all day counting votes might not be the best option for someone morbidly obese.
Just a thought.