As I came out of the new organic supermarket this morning, the dry heat hit me–transporting me directly to California.
That would be nice.
Enter the shop in France and exit six thousand miles away and close to the ocean–all stocked up!
Dream on–though they did put a robot on Mars this week–not in my lifetime.
Good weather for a stressful day–a double clinic visit and the results of a blood test.
On second thoughts, maybe California and the land of perpetual sun is not such a good idea….
My first clinic visit is to a skin surgeon for him to look at a small cancer on the left side of my nose.
Stop Press—Poldark’s scar becomes a reality!
Pas de soucis–the dermatologist assured me, providing a referral to Docteur Mylonas, the plastic surgeon–nothing to worry about!
He confirmed what she’d told me–that the culprit was the sun.
I had spent all my sun capital!, she’d said, charmingly.
Docteur Mylonas picked a date at the end of August for the small operation.
Just after lunch on the 28th suit you?
It’s this easy? Seems so.
That’ll be forty euros for today, says the receptionist, all reimbursable barring 2 euros.
The blood sample was taken–here in the kitchen–at 8 am Tuesday by our friend, Sylvie, one of the local team of nurses.
Just the quarterly A1C (measuring the glucose levels in my blood).
Sometimes the result comes in the post from the lab the next day.
I listen anxiously for the postal van’s vibrations on my return from the clinique.
Just before 1pm–a tad early–I hear it and go out to the box.
The envelope is there and the moment of truth–eek!
Worryguts in my head, it’s bound to be bad…
I unfold the paper and…
6.4% is clearly written–0.1% less than 3 months ago. In the range of normal–just!
A silent whoopee is followed by a moment of self-satisfaction as the anxiety recedes.
But there is no room for complacency, Robin, I quickly remind myself.
The 6pm appointment with the cardiologist will round off the day!