I have changed the title of my penultimate post, it was causing confusion. I do believe some thought I’d turned up my toes, and died. Well happily I haven’t. I’m still here, and didn’t mean to cause the confusion; it’s just that I abhor the “B” word. No not that one; “Blog” is the one I detest!
Is that a collective sigh of disappointment, I hear?
As punishment I’m now going to give you a small update on developments; on Wednesday I went to see Nurse Percy and Dr Ping Nee, I had intended to go on Thursday, but thought I’d go earlier, and get the business out of the way.
The doctor did her best to persuade me against my decision, but being a recalcitrant monster, I remained adamant.
Yesterday morning I received a phone call from Lesley, I think it was, she runs the Administration side of the Forum Medical Centre; to tell me that Doctor Francis wishes to see me. He’s the boss, and the bloke, who picked the stomach cancer and somehow shoved me through the meeting with God and you know the rest.
So in one hour and fifty minutes from now, I’ll shuffle, head down, into his presence and be suitably castigated.
It should be interesting and fun, always plenty of chat and smiles when we get together.
🐻
LordBeariOfBow 
You stick to your guns there, lad!
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He’s got guns? . . . ohboy . . .
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One Lord (Beari of Bow) against the Holy Trinity (Francis, Ping Nee and Percy).
ira
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Very droll Ira 👿
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I’d hate to be the doctor or nurse trying to convince you to do something you don’tt want to do. (Especially if you’ve got guns … )
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We await the report of your meeting with Doc Francis with eager anticipation.
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So bro, How did it all go? Sis
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I thought we weren’t going to talk about this any more? But anyway, out of my mouth, who still has a bit to go in health, and can’t begin to imagine how I will react when it is my turn to decide these things, I can only second the others. You make the decision that suits you. It’s fabulous that medical treatment has advanced as far as it has. You have a choice, Whippee! But for me, the analogy is like contraception. Once upon a time, we women had no choice whether or not we fell pregnant. We just had to live with the consequences, which often times, meant getting someone as precious as your beautiful grand-daughter. Then along came contraception, and then all of a sudden we have to decide whether we WANT children. How to choose? Then the case against having them became so strong and valid, that we now have a cohort of women in their forties who discover they have delayed too long and need medical intervention to have children. It’s a very mangled metaphor, but I hope you get my drift. Medical science is amazing, fabulous, wouldn’t want to be without it . . . but then . . . it means we need to make a choice. ……. now you know why I chose the pen-name Garrulous. Plus I’ve had a few red wines.
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I wasn’t, but it caused such a hullabaloo, seems everyone thought I’d kicked the bucket, so I changed the title to Penultimate Post , which makes it okay, I suppose, to rave on some more 😀
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Thanks for increasing the font size
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makes it a damned sight easier for me too, Thanks Derrick 🙂
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Just your luck if he’s in a bad mood this time.
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Trouble is he never is, he’s such a nice man, it’s hard to refuse him. 😦
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