Yes, Prime Minister?

Ye Gods! I thought I had seen it all until Boris Johnson’s appearance in front of the Parliamentary Liaison Committee yesterday. It was a combination of a master class in obfuscation, combined with an incredible ignorance - rather like the schoolboy who has not done his learning homework. Ann and  I watched with some anger and incredulity at his “performance”, his lack of preparation and his inarticulacy.

It was apparent that - looking at his dead eyes - his illness had knocked all the stuffing out of him. He could neither concentrate nor “think on his feet”. It would be a kindness for him to step down for six months or as long as it takes for him to recover fully. No doubt Michael Gove is in the wings with his stiletto poised.

We decided to have a hand rail installed by the side of our Roman steps that lead into the pool. Bearing in mind Winston Churchill and his “ACTION THIS DAY” approach I went to the local pool shop to talk to Andreas. He showed me the hand rail he sells, and I took photographs for Ann to look at. This morning we went back to the shop for Ann to see the hand rail in real life. Three hours later Andreas arrived to fit them. Not cheap but really worthwhile.

We broke cover for the first time in months on Monday. Ann had her long-awaited appointment (and my goodness what a fabulous cut) with her hairdresser, and afterwards we were driving home along the coast road and I suggested stopping for a cheeky pint. Very cool in the pub garden, with a gentle breeze, and my first taste of Old Speckled Hen in three months. A very pleasant afternoon, with a chat to the landlord who talked about his hopes and fears for the near future. Fingers crossed ...

A nasty scare ...

Last Thursday morning I woke up with a very sore throat. It became steadily worse and I reached for my grandmother’s remedy of gargling warm salty water. This didn’t improve the situation and so we went down to the local pharmacy to buy some industrial-strength gargling solution and some painkillers. I was finding it very difficult to swallow and I couldn’t eat even the softest of food.

Friday and I felt as if my tongue had swollen, and I had swallowed broken glass. It’s not in our DNA to rush off to the doctors and so I soldiered on. Sleep was impossible as my mouth filled with saliva, which I could not swallow.

By Saturday I needed some help so we rang the medical centre where my GP is based and were told to come over at ten o’clock. It was empty and the young Dr Maria (as opposed to the older Dr Maria) was there. She questioned and examined me and thought it must be a throat infection of some sort and proposed antibiotics ... but being a junior doctor she telephoned my GP who insisted I saw an ENT consultant.

Being a Saturday this was a problem and each of the GESY ENT specialists was not working. So with a referral we headed off to Paphos General Hospital (having made arrangements for our lovely dog-sitter to come and look after Daisy). When we arrived the Emergency Department it was like an armed camp and I thought at one stage that Ann was going to end up having a firm and frank exchange of views with the triage nurse.

But I was registered and spent the next couple of hours waiting to be seen. A very pleasant young doctor took me off to be examined and said he thought I had a kidney infection, and so I was put on oxygen, a drip and had a very large injection in the backside. An hour later, and there was a change of shift, and a female doctor came to enquire whether the pain in my kidneys had subsided. When I explained that I had not been in pain there, she told me there was no ENT consultant on call.

Shortly afterwards she announced there was a consultant in Limassol on call and he might come out at some time. She also suggested that I might have to be admitted as she did not know when he would arrive. Ann and I decided she would drive home and we would see what we would see. Off she went and ten minutes later a young ENT consultant arrived who had driven from Limassol and really enjoyed the ride on his big motor bike.

He examined me and shoved a camera down my throat to make sure there was no abscess. There wasn’t and he announced he could see the infection. So a prescription for antibiotics, steroids and a magic spray for the pain in my throat was handed over. I rang Ann who was not really up for driving back to Paphos and so she arranged a horrendously expensive taxi to pick me up.

Too late to get the prescription filled we waited until Sunday and off she went to get the stuff I needed. The magic spray worked wonders and I was able to take the antibiotics and the steroid straight away. With more of the magic spray I started to rehydrate and take some food.

By Monday morning I had managed some upright sleep and by the afternoon I was feeling much better. Food and drink are a marvellous restorative, and I slept well on Monday night. By Tuesday I was as right as rain, although tired, and we both managed to talk about the fears we both had that I had caught the dreaded virus - which I hadn’t. A frightening time but “all’s well that ends well”. Keep safe everybody.

Waste not, want not ...

Some weeks ago, at about the beginning of our period of self-isolation, we looked at the amount of food that we were wasting. A Shepherd’s Pie would be eaten one evening, and then put into the fridge, with a view to eating the remainder at some time in the near future. Inevitably other meals were cooked and the remainder of the Shepherd’s Pie would be thrown away.

And so we decided we would not waste food (whilst so many people in Cyprus were relying on food banks) and a new deal surfaced. The remains of evening meals were combined with other bits and pieces, and the end result was some lovely and unexpected combinations. Half a tin of baked beans (left over from breakfast) would be combined with a pasta sauce (I always make too much) and reheated with Basmati rice, and a couple of boiled onions. Delicious.

We won’t solve the world’s food shortage but it does mean that what we buy is what we use. Money saved has been used to furnish basic food supplies for a local group who provide hot meals for people in the area who have fallen on very hard times due to the pandemic. Our lovely local kiosk (a sort of mini-market) put the food supplies together and delivered them to the collection point at the bowling alley (I know) and all we needed to do was pay them by card. Interestingly they refuse money and only accept food and other necessary items. So total transparency and no “what happened to the money I donated?” questions.

It is eight weeks since we decided to self-isolate and the slight easing of restrictions by the government will be welcome. Slowly, slowly ...

A cloudy day today and then what looks like sunshine and blue skies going on and on, according to the weather forecast. Ann and I are celebrating a joint birthday on May 12th (I unilaterally moved my birthday to May this year as it was too cold and wet at the end of February) I suppose in future years I could have a birthday and then an official birthday (rather like the Queen). Now there’s a thought.

A new blogger ...

My darling wife has decided to blog about our life here in Cyprus. It’s a series of musings from our garden here. No doubt her take on life here will be different to mine and may well be illuminating. You can access her blog at musingsfromacyprusgarden.blogspot.com

Have a look and see what you think ...