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I've just been undressed.
No, sorry, that came out wrong. I've just had the dressing on the foot wound removed. Okay, some new dressing was put on, but basically we're in the process of it coming to an end - the guy I saw today (a new fella, or at least new to me) confirmed what the lady I saw last week said, that it's healed up (it has, trust me; I look forward to showing it to Sarah. I know, I'm such an old romantic), but it's fragile and it wouldn't do for me to have it unprotected and then for it to re-open.
The negative side? My next appointment for it to be looked at is next Thursday.
So far, my birthday is looking like this.
9:30 - GP appointment.
11:40 - podiatry appointment
13:30 - personal advisor appointment at Jobcentre.
I hate to be fussy, but I'd kind of like something to happen that day that's, y'know, more relevant to actually celebrating my birthday and turning <mumpty-mumble>.
Okay, forty-five. I think I'm probably due a midlife crisis about now...
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