Misty

It was supposed to be a sunny day, but by lunchtime the mist was thicker and the other side of the valley was invisible. If I'd had time to be better organised I could have photographed the ducks on their pond full of golden reflections in the park next to Folkestone's Royal Victoria hospital, but I left the house in a hurry without a camera. P had tried forty times to telephone the GP surgery, then drove up there (the branch surgery in our village being closed on Saturdays) to try to get an appointment for me. None were available before next week. Cellulitis needs to be treated promptly, so he asked where I could be seen and managed to extract from the indifferent receptionist the informtion that if I phoned 111, they would be able to book an appointment for me in the urgent treatment centre in Folkestone. Apart from the twenty minute wait on 111, with repeated recorded messages telling me they were very busy and trying to encourage me towards alternatives, this worked well: it was 9.45, they offered a 10.30 slot, and on arrival I was seen immediately. My self-diagnosis was confirmed and antibiotics prescribed. However, had I not known what I was dealing with and the need to treat it promptly to avoid potential hospitalisation and the risk of sepsis, and therefore been proactive about finding an alternative to the unavailable GP appointment, I would have been waiting until at least Monday and by then perhaps much more seriously ill.

I've done little else today and slept all afternoon. This was the view from the balcony after lunch. If you look carefully you can spot the cat.