Grandson and I went to the museum again today. This may seem rather unimaginative but I had him all to myself since Mr Life was at the eye hospital all day so some entertainment was called for. Grandson was wearing rather bright orange trousers, as you see. They were knitted by a friend of Daughter 1 and they have a tendency to sink beneath the little round tum. He could do with a belt or braces.
Mr Life was at the hospital so that they could take readings of the pressure in (behind?) his eyes at hourly intervals from 9 till 4. The pressure is too low and this may mean that he's at risk of glaucoma, though normally this is to do with pressure being too high.
We're getting our money's worth out of the NHS these days, it strikes me. Son had to go as an emergency to the eye place in Perth yesterday because he had another episode of iritis - inflammation of the irises. He's had problems with his joints since he was thirteen - inflammation of the soft tissues round his joints. It started with his hip and now affects his knee, ankles and fingers. Arthritis has some connection with the eyes also, hence the several attacks of iritis. Fortunately he knows to go and get steroid drops, which deal with it. He's very stoical about it all but has to have daily injections to combat the joint pain and swelling.
Daughter 2 also has a bit of it, in her fingers.
And then there was my dad, who was in hospital for nine months before he died, and my mum, in hospital for two months and on a lot of medication before that.
And I had to visit the doctor yesterday for the first time in years, for three little (at least I hope they turn out to be little) problems.
So: thank you, NHS. We're very lucky to have you (though I know you're not perfect. But what is?) Though I'd rather we didn't actually need you.
It's rather chilly here, though there's no snow. Yet.