After twenty five years of searching I’ve finally discovered a painkiller that works on my strange excuse for a body. I won’t bother naming them since they’ll have different names in each country. Yet even though they’re not the strongest in the world – especially compared to the myriad drugs I’ve tried for all that time, they take away the pain immediately and keep it at bay for twelve hours at a time.
That was the good news.
Tomorrow I finally have my dentist’s appointment. Surely that’s good, you might say. Yes it is, but since I have two abscesses in my bouche and the dentist will only deal with one ailment at a time, I’ll have to secure another appointment. Surely Mark 2, I hear you say, you can just book another appointment?
No, in the company for which I work death is the only excuse for not coming in. And after a week’s holiday what possible justification can I give for taking another day off?
There is a chance, though. If I grovel and cry enough, which I’m more than willing to do, she might get me an emergency appointment at another clinic this week.
And even if (God forbid) I was willing to pay for it myself instead of getting in on the NHS (for which I still have to pay, albeit less) I still can’t get another appointment with her, or anybody else, this week.
I’m keeping the pliers handy.
And that’s another thing. In a few days time, when I get paid, the government is going to extract money from my wages to pay for a new pension scheme even though I’ve been paying into one myself for over twenty years. What really galls me is that I’ve repeatedly expressed the opinion that I do not want another pension. “Don’t worry”, sayeth the pay person at work, “you’ll get it back once you’ve opted out.” I never opted in! And what about the millions in interest the govt will make this month from all the money they’ve taken without permission. Will they be repaying the interest?
I don’t think so.