On Water and Worry.

After more than two days of suffering dry taps our water is now running freely again, so there is every reason to suppose that I will go to bed duly cleansed tonight. The pile of dishes I have to wash up looks like the remains of a banquet, but at least I’ll probably sleep easier for being decently clean.

All the conversation I heard in Ashbourne today centered on the waterless days and the near-devastating impact occasioned to the modern, advanced lifestyle when the usually trusty taps cease to function for more than a few hours (it was fifty three where I live.) And all the growls of complaint aimed at the water company were directed not at their response to the problem on the ground, but their lamentable lack of comprehensive and accurate information. I gather the company has announced that it will compensate us to the tune of £30. That’s OK, then; money placates us mightily, doesn’t it?

In other news, I had a voicemail message today from the consultant’s secretary with regard to my health issue. She asked that I call her back ‘to sort out an appointment.’ This has come out of the blue and after seventeen days of eerie silence on their part, so what might this appointment involve? I was led to believe that if the second CT scan showed nothing I would simply get a letter calling me to go in for the removal of a kidney. Now it appears that the consultant has something else to say to me. I wonder what it is. I’ll make the phone call tomorrow, and maybe I won’t sleep easier tonight after all.