Unavoidable decisions made

Both Clare and I were awake at five this morning, leaving the house at half past five to drive her to the coach station to start her journey to Phoenix AZ to visit Rachel and Jazz. The Heathrow coach was half an hour late, but got her to Terminal Five with the four hours she needed before her direct flight departed. Fortunately, despite the weather it left on time, and in the evening I was able to find it on a flight tracking website heading south west from Hudson's Bay surprisingly on-time despite strong headwinds causing longer flight times on the direct east-west route. In the past week or so the speed record for the fastest transatlantic subsonic flight west-east has been broken twice due to the power of the jet-stream - 800 miles an hour ground speed.

I went to the surgery this morning for my medication review. I also asked the doctor's opinion about travelling abroad on working in Ibiza, whether under the circumstances it would entail additional risk, and she said that it didn't. If I have the confidence to manage on my own here, as I shall be for the next fortnight, then being on my own in Ibiza is no different. So I can get on with preparations for getting there.

Much to my disappointment, after two weeks, I received an email from the Spanish Ministry of Justice rejecting my application for a police check, on the basis that a UK certificated copy of my passport is unacceptable in their legal processes. The only way I can get a copy 'notarised' as their protocol requires is to obtain an appointment at the Spanish consulate and make a visit in person, or else mail my passport to the office, which I am reluctant to do not knowing how long it would take. It looks as if the only way I can get this done is to find the Ministry of Justice office in Ibiza and go through all the necessary procedures there, to obtain a certificate copy and apply for a police check. So much easier in person.

Still nothing from UHW about an appointment. No response to my letter to Mrs Cornish. Finally I reached the conclusion that further delay is not in my best interests or anyone else's, so if I have to pay for the final round of surgery, I have to pay. So, early evening I called the Nuffield Hospital in the Bay and arranged a consultation with Professor Haray one of their surgical consultants. I have an appointment booked for Thursday morning. Hopefully, I may be able to get an operation within a few weeks. The cost of that is likely to be as much as that river cruise I was hoping to take Clare on. Such a pity.

It seems that the lion's share of NHS resources these days goes into managing any and every kind of medical crisis from A&E to transplants. It's well done and often successful in a way that calls for admiration and respect. Brexit driven staff shortages have hit UK hospitals hard, but the price is paid for this disproportionately by the masses of people suffering from chronic minor complaints needing routine surgery, having to wait twice as long this year as last. If only the hospital admin were more honest and forthcoming to patients about the real position they are in, then at least it'd be possible to make an informed decision about treatment. I'm fortunate to be able to afford to act in my own interests, even though I'd prefer to wait, but enough is enough. Mt family and other people have to endure living with me in the precarious state I've been coping with for so long. It's not fair on them as well.