bethlet.net

The doctor's appointment and last night

First, I saw a rheumatologist yesterday. I trekked into London and over to the West End, where I had my first experience with Harley Street. Harley Street is to doctors as Saville Row is to tailors. No kidding. As I've been talking to Sandi about my hand issues, she kept telling me to go see a Harley Street doctor. I didn't understand what this meant at the time; now I do. Harley Street really is just one specialist practice after another. It's very posh, too. My doctor was wearing a pinstripe suit and was very dapper indeed.

Anyway, the rheumatologist, Dr. Bourke, examined me and asked me to explain what had been going on and took all of my history down and stuff like that. He seemed a bit stumped at first, but finally coaxed that I had psoriasis out of me (it's amazing the things you do and don't think of to tell doctors when you're actually at an appointment). I was vaguely aware that a type of arthritis existed that went hand in hand with the skin condition, but it hadn't occurred to me that I might have it. Indeed, Dr. Bourke seemed to think that that might be just the thing. This is a relief because I already knew I had psoriasis. Best not to add something new to this. It doesn't entirely match my symptoms, but he also did a bunch of blood tests so I'll go back and see him again in a week. We'll see.

He also told me that I had a bit of carpal tunnel. This isn't particularly surprising, I suppose. Stupid computer. He thought the reason I was getting sick was my anti-inflammatory, so he prescribed me another kind. We'll see how I do with those.

After that, I met Tina for a quick drink and a little bite to eat. James's team and a couple of people on Steffen's team were going out to drinks and we wanted to make sure we didn't get trapped in that sloshed before dinner yuckiness. We planned on meeting them at the bar (The Light in Shoreditch) but ended up meeting up with them on the way.

The bar itself was a converted warehouse. Cool atmosphere but very very noisy. There was an area outside that had grass, and another gravelly area beside that under a tent roof. We stood out on the grass for a while, drinking and talking. When it started raining, we moved under the tent with everyone else. It rained hard. Like, a downpour. The tent roof was suspended by ropes, the ends of which poked through here and there in little knots. There was a hole for a rope next to where we were standing, but no rope in it. This left, you guessed it, just a hole. It was right over a picnic table. I was particularly impressed with the girls who were sitting at this table and their ingenuity:

You can barely see it from this appalling phone-cam pic, but one of them had a tampon and, yes, that ultra-absorbent and expanding cotton did the trick in plugging up the hole. Very amusing.

We ended up at a restaurant called Cru in Hoxton, which was quite good and only about five minutes away from our future new flat. It's pretty cool hanging out in that area and getting a feel for it. There's a lot going on, and it seems vital and fun - a good change from Cheshunt. Can you tell I'm counting the days until we move?

Profile

Archives

Flickr