How can it be Friday already? Skipping a blog day will probably have something do do with it. The week has flown, but while I’d normally be wondering what I’d been doing all week, at least this week I have a few things to show for it.
The patio door in our dining room has come off its runners and we’ve been waiting for someone to have a look at it for more than 2 weeks. A man turned up yesterday, saying he’d tried a phone number but it didn’t work, and he’d tried the poet’s mobile, but he hadn’t answered. We checked the number that didn’t work, and I didn’t even recognise it, and I said the poet was probably in a meeting as, you know, work and that.
Anyway, the man refuses to even consider repairing the door now as he says they’re obsolete and they can’t get the parts. So he’s measured up and he’ll quote for replacement French doors with side panels.
I finished transferring the consolidated client edits to screen and sent it off to the client, saying I didn’t remember seeing any plates, but if she sends them to me I’ll turn them around as soon as I can. Not only do I know she’s on a tight deadline with this now, since the author arranged some publicity events earlier than anticipated, but I also don’t want the job hanging over me while I try and write these novellas.
I had something to eat and by the time I was back at my desk, the client had replied, saying she thought she’d sent me the plates, and she sent her apologies if she didn’t, but here they were now if I wanted to have a look at them. I had a look, made some corrections, and sent them back to her.
I didn’t have much more time to work, because we had an appointment. So I rattled off today’s blog post, leaving me free this morning to start with a vengeance my self-imposed challenge.
The poet managed to get a doctor’s appointment for Monday morning (I know, we’re very blessed to have such a service), at 9am. And it was in the village surgery and he didn’t have to drive anywhere or try to park. So he went to see the doc before going to work. The doctor diagnosed laryngitis and said the poet really shouldn’t be singing while he has that or it will never get better.
However, the doctor also diagnosed silent reflux, which burns the vocal chords and which is likely delaying the healing process.
‘I haven’t noticed any indigestion or burning, or any regurgitation or anything.’ said the poet, knowing full well how I sometimes suffer with my acid reflux.
‘That’s because it’s silent…’ said the doctor.
‘And what about the nausea?’ asked the poet. ‘Is the laryngitis causing that?’
‘No,’ said the doc. ‘That will be when it isn’t being silent…’
So he gave the poet a week’s worth of antibiotics and a month’s worth of pump inhibitors. His are double the strength of mine, and I only take them when I need to (up to 2), while he has to take them every day until he finishes the course.
In all likelihood, if he rests, his voice will get better. But it won’t happen overnight and he shouldn’t be singing anyway as long as there’s an infection there. But at least he knows what it is and he has medication.
The doctor isn’t worried about anything else, but he did arrange for a chest x-ray too, and that was where we were going yesterday.
Today, I really, really must crack on with my writing. I have The Secret of Whitehorse Farm to write and Catch the Rainbow to continue revising. I don’t have any more short stories to work on this week, but I do have a hair appointment later today.
We didn’t get grand-doggy #1 for the fortnight, but we are getting grand-doggy #2 this evening, and she’s going home on Sunday, when we go out for a meal with the family.
Have a great weekend!
Oh, I hope he feels better. A couple of singers I know have had similar issues since they got COVID, as part of Long Covid, so I hope it’s not that, and the antibiotics clear it up.
Have a good weekend with the dog.
Thank you!
He does feel better, thank you, and he said he started to feel as though the meds were working on Thursday. He started the meds on Monday. He’s now just hoping his voice comes back. Neither of us has had Covid for 4 years, but the shots were worse, made us much iller, and lasted much longer, weeks longer, than the virus itself. They don’t hand the shots out anymore, other than to vulnerable people.