After an unexpectedly hectic weekend assembling kitchen units, dissembling wardrobes and generally turning the house upside down, I awoke on Monday morning with a sore throat and numerous aches and pains, all of which called out for the soothing balm of a painkiller. Tramadol in the evening is a very effective way of attaining comfort, and then sleep, but in the morning it is the quickest route to baffledom and fuzzytown that I know of.
I knew I needed to establish the time and date of my appointment with my surgeon, and spent a fruitless half hour searching for the appointment letter, before deciding to phone work and tell them I would be a little late. The letter would not be found, so I phoned the hospital to discover that my appointment was booked for today at 11am! Fortunately, it was at the local hospital, a short bikeride away. My intention had been to cancel the appointment, but I was obviously too late for this, so I decided I may as well see the surgeon, even though the problems I had encountered six months ago were long gone.
The surgeon was delighted with my progress, and told me to continue to live as normal, with no fear of the hernias returning.
After my appointment I rode over to work, and had a pleasant afternoon trueing wheels and adjusting brakes.
We discussed the week, and I explained my commitments, and there was no hassle. My work-life balance is restored, I am a happy man.
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