Wednesday, 2 October 2013

Hospital Wednesday

Today was my last hospital Wednesday: no more lunchtime knee injection from now on!
Well, at least for one year, if I have to believe what the doctor told me.
I felt incredibly happy about it, not only because infiltration are slightly painful and my knee swells, but also because it means going back to normal routine.

Because my office is in the middle of nowhere, I'd waste half of my day traveling to and from for something that normally shouldn't require more than 20 minutes total. So the only reasonable thing to do on a hospital Wednesday is that I work from home.

Over the year, I came to seriously dislike working from home: it feels I start at 8 in the morning and stop only when it's past 9 in the evening. Why should I stop? I got no long walk to the station to do, no train to catch, no waiting at the bar, I can just fix a salad in the kitchen and lunch is served.
The coffee break consists of me starting the coffee machine, going back to the Mac, work till the coffee machine starts mumbling and grumbling.

The only moment I stop working on hospital Wednesday is when I walk to the hospital, put some stamps on the documents, get my injection and slowly walk back home. That's it.
Oh. so. exciting. I can barely refrain my enthusiasm at how enthralling my life sounds right now.

Well, if possible, my life got even duller today.
The doctor was running a little behind the appointment schedule.
Ok, how "little" is this little? Can you define "little"? Quantify it?
"Oh, just a little". Just.
I waited just 5 minutes. 10 minutes. 15 minutes.
Little was looking longer and longer by the minute and it expanded to just a little more than one hour.

I wasn't the only one feeling this way:

Waiting room

Obviously, since I had gone with the idea of not spending more than 10 minutes in the waiting room, I was almost completely unprepared: what's the point of taking 1 kg of Murakami's 1Q84 (a literary and literal heavyweight) if you're planning to barely have the time of sitting and taking in the surroundings?

Good things I had a little gauge swatch with me to knit and by the time I was called I had finished it. Not only that: nothing best to pick the attention of the ladies sitting in front of me. I was (again!) asked whether I was Italian-Italian as it's still unusual to see Italians knitting in public. We chatted a little, they told me some memories of their mums and grandmas working socks on DPNs and by the time I left them they were all still sporting some nice nostalgic smiles. 

But I like this photo better, to remind me to be constant with my physiotherapy from now on. And also to not complain too much about weather, distance, chavs on the metro next Wednesday while commuting to work.

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