Ever have one of those moments when everything suddenly becomes clear and you want to slap your forehead with your palm and groan in a Homer-like 'Doh!' Yes? Good. I had one of those moments yesterday. I started the second pair of yoga socks and I was peering at the picture on the PDF wondering why my ribbing looked different when it suddenly occurred to me that maybe the 2x1 ribbing was actually K2P1 and not K2P2 like I'd thought. Yep, I know. How stupid am I? You don't need to tell me, I feel pretty dumb as it is! Ha, it all makes sense now. I did the maths and yes, 3 does go evenly into 42, so I didn't need to cast on extra. So these are the new improved yoga socks that I nearly finished yesterday during a Lord of the Rings movie marathon.
I fired one of the new wand pens that I made and apart from a slight curl, this one pretty much survived intact. I did two shorter firings, but I think even that was too long. I will beat this polymer clay pen technique thingy!
I redid the beads too. I didn't like how putting a hole through them prior to firing made the bead all squishy and misshapen, so I rolled them back into balls and reshaped them and I'll drill the holes into them now they're hard. Now they look like lentils and not like chickpeas (which I adore but now have to eat in moderation as they're too high in vitamin K which reacts with Warfarin! Goodbye falafel and humus binges!)
Today's visit to the GP's was a double-whammy. I need a sick note to cover my arse with the minions at Incapacity Benefit and also I needed a blood test to check my INR (which was high last time). Well it seems that my doctors didn't even know that I'd been in hospital (the hospital haven't sent my notes through yet), the hospital was also supposed to send me home with a sick certificate (the GP's don't do that anymore unless they're the attending clinician, i.e. you're being treated within the practice) and without having my current medical data, can't even prescribe me any contraceptives. I'm a bit wobbly in the mornings at the moment and couldn't stop the tears welling up in my eyes as I weakly queried what the hell I should do now, who I should contact at the hospital, the referring doctor, the anti-coagulant doctor or my Lupus doctor in Rhuematology? I spent an hour on the phone to the Incapacity Benefit people on Monday and I'm getting mightily sick of beurocratic shit. He felt sorry enough for me that he did give me a certificate for the next three weeks, but I have to badger the hospital for one for the past two weeks. I'm happy that we're lucky enough in this country to have free healthcare, but does it have to be so bloody slapdash?
The blood test was a breeze after that, even though my veins are now bruised as hell and scream at the mere sight of a needle now. They protect themselves by hiding as deep as they can get and even the professional vampire in charge of blood extraction has to spend 10 minutes tapping frantically on my arms to coax a tiny vein to the surface. Lovely as the nurses always are, if one more says to me that I'll just feel a little scratch, I shall thump somebody! I'm sorry, but jabbing a needle into my arm is not a little scratch! I'm not a complete wuss, I have piercing's and tattoos, but hell, when you have a piercing, it goes through the skin for a minute or two, and then you have a nice bit of jewellery to admire and that rush of exhilaration. And you don't have a piercing in the same place everyday for weeks! So, I'm just contenting myself with my eyes closed and a little sucky inbreath at the moment. I don't think I'll ever get used to this, but at least I'm still here.
I woke up this morning to find a corpse on the patio. A big fat bird. I have a suspect. I shall be interrogating later.