The NHS is driving me neurotic! It veers from wonderful when you need it to intrusively invasive when you don’t.
I recall my granny and grandad – I lived with them during the war years in a little house opposite The Brown Cow, Chatburn. They lived their lives in tranquil peace and dignity and went to the doctors when they needed them.
Not any more. I am besieged by blood tests and urine tests! What do they do to test the strands of my already frayed mental psychology?
And the opticians! I need, or would like, an extra pair of spectacles as per last year, but I am harrassed by phone calls that I would need an up-to-date eye test. I am virtually housebound, of my own volition. And the dentists can wait; my few remaining teeth should last me.
Can’t someone let me out of here... but I no longer have a passport. At my age I didn’t think I would need one.
St Chad’s Avenue, Chatburn.