What a difference a day makes! Hormonal Hannah was absolutely fine yesterday, today she woke up in a totally different place. Now it might have been because Calum was home last night, but then had to go off to work at 3.30am this morning, so wasn't here when Baggy woke up. It could have been because Hannah's anxiety was off the scale, because Baggy had a 9.30am doctor's appointment. Or it could have been, in fact probably was, just because that's how depression works. But whatever the reason, by the time that Grotty Groom had attempted to get on every pair of jodphurs that she possesses, and failed completely, Hannah was having a meltdown. In the end, Grotty put on a pair of Calum's jodphurs - she could only just do them up! By then, Baggy was almost late for her appointment. Driving a forty-year-old campervan with tears in your eyes - not easy - but Baggy was there in time. Pepper Pooch was not too happy to be left in the car park, but as he's not an 'assistance dog', he's not allowed into the surgery.
Creative Clara needs to make a little aside here. On Monday when Baggy went for her blood tests at the ex-hospital opposite the surgery, she shot in to collect her 'number' for the queue. The receptionist was the lovely one who'd looked after Pepper the first time that Baggy went. Hannah had put the blood test form somewhere safe - and totally lost it! So she needed to pop to the surgery to collect a replacement one. 'Hello again, where's your dog?'
'Hi. He's in my van at the moment. Do I have time to go and get a form and then him, before my number?'
'Yes, loads.'
When she returned with the pooch, who hauled her in, the receptionist came out to chat to Baggy, and to fuss Pepper, while they sat in the waiting room. Baggy was number 43. One of the phlebotomists came out and announced '39' and looked around the few (for once) people in the waiting room. She saw Pepper, and glared at Baggy. In rather an annoyed voice, and in front of the entire waiting room, she asked Baggy, 'Is that an assistance dog?'
'Urrm, no.'
'Then why is he in here? This is a hospital. When have you ever known dogs to be allowed into hospitals?'
'I'm terribly sorry, but I always bring him. I thought it was okay.'
'Well it's not,' she said, as everyone stared at Baggy, who could feel the tears arising.
'Okay, I'll take him outside.'
'There's no need,' said the receptionist to Baggy, 'It's not a hospital,' she said to the phlebotomist, who stomped off into her room.
'I'm so sorry, I didn't want to cause a problem.'
'You should've just said he was an assistance dog,' said the lady sitting next to Baggy, as she patted Pepper.
Hannah started to blub.
'I'll take him out to the camper.'
'No you won't he's fine.'
There were two phlebotomists on duty, but inevitably Baggy was called in by the cross one, who Baggy recognised as the lady she'd seen last time, when she'd missed her number because she was sitting with Pepper and hadn't heard it. Hannah apologised once again, but explained that she'd brought him at least five times now. She should have just shut up because she got a proper lecture. '........blah, blah, and you might think it's okay, but every client who came in after you complained.....'
As Hannah continued to apologise, while trying to hide Baggy's tears, Clever Bird registered how much nonsense that statement actually was! Virtually without exception, every person in the waiting room on each occasion had said 'hi' to the pooch and patted him. But that didn't stop Baggy from feeling terrible, as she'd never have taken him in in the first place if she hadn't been encouraged to by the receptionists. '......I do have very sick people to worry about you know, it's not on, bringing dog germs into a hospital.....' And yet it would have been absolutely fine if Pepper was an assistance dog - presumably they carry no such germs. By the time Baggy had been jabbed, collected Pepper from the receptionist, and got back to Billy Bob, Hannah was having a total meltdown.
This morning, as Baggy sat in the surgery waiting for her appointment, she could hear Pepper getting quietly hysterical in Billy Bob, so Psychic Ploppo tried to send him positive vibes that she wouldn't be too long.
'So how are you?' asked the lovely doctor.
'Well, if you'd asked me that yesterday, I'd have....', Baggy didn't get any further, as Hannah burst into tears.
Baggy's found a good doctor, and she's sticking with her! Long story short:
- Baggy is no longer anaemic!! Her iron is still low, but her haemoglobin level is 'normal', although still too low to donate blood.
- Baggy explained about accidentally coming off HRT, but said she'd rather stay off it now if she can, as it wasn't helping her weight.
- The doctor asked how often Baggy felt 'like this'. 'At least once a week I suppose, but not as often as I used to.' The doctor asked if Baggy wished to go back on happy pills. Clever Bird instantly declined. 'Don't think of it as a failure.' 'Oh but I don't! I even blog about depression, but I don't fancy getting more stomach ulcers.' 'Well if you feel like this more than once a week, please come back and see me, we'll sort something out.'
'Yep, very! In fact we have two, although I can't ride mine at the moment because I'm too heavy for him.' Grotty explained about the kissing spine, and losing 3 1/2 stones, before putting four back on again. 'That's why I want to lose weight, so I can ride him again.'
'Get another horse!'
Baggy laughed, 'We can't afford the two we have!'
'Then ride your husband's! It'll get you fit, help you lose weight, and most importantly, it will help you with your mental health.'
Well, now it's doctor's orders, who is Grotty to argue? All she needs to do, is build up Joey's fitness and find the guts to get on him! Hmmm. What's to worry about, he's only had two years off after all?
As for the tiredness: sleeping badly because of the night sweats; working Baggy's big socks off; depression and carrying an extra four-stone about!
From the doctors' to the yard to groom both Boys, then to Dunwich beach with Pepper. By the time they got home at lunchtime, Creative Clara was ready to get on with painting the kitchen, Hannah felt okay, and the black cloud was floating away........
Note to readers (my lovely Baggees): For the avoidance of any doubt - every character in this blog is me!!! No Baggy was harmed in its writing.
Baggy's daily state!
Depression (Black = really bad/Grey = not great/Blue = okay/Yellow = sunny day): Grey.
Anxiety (From 1 = barely any to 10 = gibbering wreck standard): 7.
Tears: Couldn't stop.
Baggy: 225
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