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She would never say where she came from. Yesterday don't matter if it's gone.
Tuesday, last morning in Glasgow, first night in Inverness.
More people I saw and photographed on Monday, but left out of yesterday's list: Erik V. Olson and various others who were milling about the Fan Lounge/Real Ale Bar.
Fans we saw and photographed on Tuesday included: Jonathan Cain, Marianne Cain, Steven Cain (
malwen), Chip Hitchcock,
bohemiancoast, and Davey Snyder.
Tuesday morning we went to Sandyford Surgery and were immediately referred to the Western Infirmary, where they could x-ray my possibly-broken ankle. The admissions clerk didn't know what to make of my five-digit postcode; learning I was from America only helped a little. We'd called the Travelguard insurance people to find out what was the procedure; basically, any expenses we incur the insurance people will reimburse. As it turns out, with the National Health that the UK enjoys, we didn't get charged anything at the time of the visit. I don't know if they'll come to their senses later and bill us for the visit, though.
There was a painfully amusing moment in the examining room when the doctor was trying to determine the extent of nerve damage, what I could feel and do with my foot and toes, and so forth. She brushed the sole of my foot -- yep, that tickles. She carefully poked and prodded up and down my ankle, most of which didn't hurt at all, until she found the one spot that would cause excruciating pain. I'm just glad I didn't kick her in the face.
It was decided that maybe it was broken, maybe not, and it should be x-rayed. They sent me down the hall, put me on a table, and asked me to stretch my foot and point my toes up. Let me tell you, that's a lot easier to do if you have something to stretch against! The point was to stretch things so that if there was a break, it would show up clearly on the x-ray. The end result was, no, it's not broken. They talked about taking Paracetamol. Paracetamol? Is that the trade name for Acetaminophen? The nurse I was talking to had never heard of Acetaminophen, or Tylenol for that matter. I was pretty sure that's what she meant, and I finally said "Too much ibuprofen is bad for your kidneys; too much acetaminophen is bad for your liver" and she said "That's it!" She gave me a bottle containing ten doses of ibuprofen, 400 mg. (i.e. the equivalent of two of the over-the-counter pills) and ten doses of "co-drydamol" (sp?) which was codeine plus paracetamol. Told me to keep it elevated when I'm watching tv. Everybody made a lot of sympathetic noises about my holiday being marred by this incident, and suggested I shouldn't walk on it too much.
The University of Glasgow, one entrance anyway, is directly next to the hospital. There's this nifty double helix sculpture thing in the garden of one of their old-looking brick buildings, so I had to stop and take a picture of that too. As we walked down the pavement (sidewalk), I saw a sign that read, in part "5-7 minutes walk through the archway to museum entrance in University Avenue -- Free parking within University grounds at weekends. Drive through the main entrance gate in University Avenue" and was reminded of when I took my first Spanish class and was confused by how prepositions didn't translate straight across. In American usage, the phrases would have been "entrance on University Avenue" and free parking "on weekends." We also might not use the plural (minutes) for "5-7 minute walk" (because it's a variation on saying five-minute walk).
We'd taken a bus to the hospital, and took another one (route 62) back, and hobbled into Number 36 to pick up our luggage. Julie was anxious to get rid of us, it seemed; it was noon, we'd overstayed our check-out time, but I wanted to change into long pants. I'd worn short pants in case I ended up in a foot cast or something, but since we were just going to keep wrapping it with the ace bandage I wanted long pants so I could pretend to be a grown-up while riding in first class. She offered to call a taxi, and before I could mull over whether I wanted to go to the railway station immediately, she'd called them, and it was waiting outside the door. They'd already dragged most of our heavy luggage upstairs for us.
I'd actually been considering going down to The Goat for a little lunch before heading out to Queen Street Station, using my folding trolley to get our stuff there, but there was the taxi waiting outside. We headed to Queen St. Sta., and as we approached Buchanan Street I asked if Buchanan Galleries was nearby. We had the cabbie drop us off at John Lewis, where I didn't find any 10-spoke umbrellas.They had full-size 8-spoke umbrellas, and some of good quality, but I didn't want to deal with bringing home an umbrella when my old one hadn't quite given up the ghost. One of the spokes is a little bent, but it still operates.
library_lynn's umbrella was broken, but we were still carting it along; didn't want two unpackable items to carry.
At John Lewis we did find some wild ties, very colourful. I couldn't really tell any qualitative differences between the pink and purple ones on clearance and the ones still on sale for 65 pounds. When I get my pictures uploaded, Jim Murray will be jealous. We had all of the luggage loaded on the trolley, and I pulled it around the block (mostly downhill) to Queen Street Station. In the square across from the station, the Piping Festival was in full swing; we could have sat right there for three or four more days of live music. We had a bit of a wait before our train, so we got some lunch at the pub in the station. While we were in the station, we ran into the Cain Four.
bohemiancoast and
malwen seemed to have their hands full wrangling Jonathan and Marianne, so we didn't stop and chat for long. Then after we got onto our train to Inverness we ran across Chip Hitchcock and Davey Snyder in the carriage; they were heading to Inverness, where they'd rent a car and continue further north.
Neither Glasgow Queen Street nor Invernesss stations had a West Cornwall Pasty Company. I didn't get a good pasty in the Highlands at all.
We had walking instructions to get from the station in Inverness to Mokoia House. Turn right onto the street in front of the station, cross the street, continue until you reach Farmfoods (a market specializing in frozen foods; I bought us some chocolate ice-creams and a bag of rolls. Turn left, follow the lane to the river, cross the river on the Greig St. pedestrian bridge, go up a block and a half, can't miss it. We got it. Parked our stuff, asked where we should eat, went to Waterfront Restaurant.
Waterfront is, of course, on the river. Lots of B&B guest houses on our street and on the street that fronts along the river. No vacancy anywhere. At Waterfront, it's a bit smokey but we take our chances. I have a positively delicious steak pie. A steak pie is basically pot roast in and overflowing a pastry shell. Unsuitable for
library_lynn, of course; she had chicken. It was a lovely night, cool, but then we were in the Highlands. We went back to the guest house. I asked Kieron, the proprietor, about internet cafe services, and learned that he had Wi-Fi set up in the house and I was welcome to use it. Woo hoo! He talked about adding "Free Wi-Fi" to the web page advertising the place.
Mokoia House has two labrador dogs -- a black lab named Jess, who's young and rambunctious, and a chocolate lab named Molly who graces the front page of their website. In fact, that was one of the overriding reasons we chose them:
library_lynn fell in love with the doggy.
More people I saw and photographed on Monday, but left out of yesterday's list: Erik V. Olson and various others who were milling about the Fan Lounge/Real Ale Bar.
Fans we saw and photographed on Tuesday included: Jonathan Cain, Marianne Cain, Steven Cain (
Tuesday morning we went to Sandyford Surgery and were immediately referred to the Western Infirmary, where they could x-ray my possibly-broken ankle. The admissions clerk didn't know what to make of my five-digit postcode; learning I was from America only helped a little. We'd called the Travelguard insurance people to find out what was the procedure; basically, any expenses we incur the insurance people will reimburse. As it turns out, with the National Health that the UK enjoys, we didn't get charged anything at the time of the visit. I don't know if they'll come to their senses later and bill us for the visit, though.
There was a painfully amusing moment in the examining room when the doctor was trying to determine the extent of nerve damage, what I could feel and do with my foot and toes, and so forth. She brushed the sole of my foot -- yep, that tickles. She carefully poked and prodded up and down my ankle, most of which didn't hurt at all, until she found the one spot that would cause excruciating pain. I'm just glad I didn't kick her in the face.
It was decided that maybe it was broken, maybe not, and it should be x-rayed. They sent me down the hall, put me on a table, and asked me to stretch my foot and point my toes up. Let me tell you, that's a lot easier to do if you have something to stretch against! The point was to stretch things so that if there was a break, it would show up clearly on the x-ray. The end result was, no, it's not broken. They talked about taking Paracetamol. Paracetamol? Is that the trade name for Acetaminophen? The nurse I was talking to had never heard of Acetaminophen, or Tylenol for that matter. I was pretty sure that's what she meant, and I finally said "Too much ibuprofen is bad for your kidneys; too much acetaminophen is bad for your liver" and she said "That's it!" She gave me a bottle containing ten doses of ibuprofen, 400 mg. (i.e. the equivalent of two of the over-the-counter pills) and ten doses of "co-drydamol" (sp?) which was codeine plus paracetamol. Told me to keep it elevated when I'm watching tv. Everybody made a lot of sympathetic noises about my holiday being marred by this incident, and suggested I shouldn't walk on it too much.
The University of Glasgow, one entrance anyway, is directly next to the hospital. There's this nifty double helix sculpture thing in the garden of one of their old-looking brick buildings, so I had to stop and take a picture of that too. As we walked down the pavement (sidewalk), I saw a sign that read, in part "5-7 minutes walk through the archway to museum entrance in University Avenue -- Free parking within University grounds at weekends. Drive through the main entrance gate in University Avenue" and was reminded of when I took my first Spanish class and was confused by how prepositions didn't translate straight across. In American usage, the phrases would have been "entrance on University Avenue" and free parking "on weekends." We also might not use the plural (minutes) for "5-7 minute walk" (because it's a variation on saying five-minute walk).
We'd taken a bus to the hospital, and took another one (route 62) back, and hobbled into Number 36 to pick up our luggage. Julie was anxious to get rid of us, it seemed; it was noon, we'd overstayed our check-out time, but I wanted to change into long pants. I'd worn short pants in case I ended up in a foot cast or something, but since we were just going to keep wrapping it with the ace bandage I wanted long pants so I could pretend to be a grown-up while riding in first class. She offered to call a taxi, and before I could mull over whether I wanted to go to the railway station immediately, she'd called them, and it was waiting outside the door. They'd already dragged most of our heavy luggage upstairs for us.
I'd actually been considering going down to The Goat for a little lunch before heading out to Queen Street Station, using my folding trolley to get our stuff there, but there was the taxi waiting outside. We headed to Queen St. Sta., and as we approached Buchanan Street I asked if Buchanan Galleries was nearby. We had the cabbie drop us off at John Lewis, where I didn't find any 10-spoke umbrellas.They had full-size 8-spoke umbrellas, and some of good quality, but I didn't want to deal with bringing home an umbrella when my old one hadn't quite given up the ghost. One of the spokes is a little bent, but it still operates.
At John Lewis we did find some wild ties, very colourful. I couldn't really tell any qualitative differences between the pink and purple ones on clearance and the ones still on sale for 65 pounds. When I get my pictures uploaded, Jim Murray will be jealous. We had all of the luggage loaded on the trolley, and I pulled it around the block (mostly downhill) to Queen Street Station. In the square across from the station, the Piping Festival was in full swing; we could have sat right there for three or four more days of live music. We had a bit of a wait before our train, so we got some lunch at the pub in the station. While we were in the station, we ran into the Cain Four.
Neither Glasgow Queen Street nor Invernesss stations had a West Cornwall Pasty Company. I didn't get a good pasty in the Highlands at all.
We had walking instructions to get from the station in Inverness to Mokoia House. Turn right onto the street in front of the station, cross the street, continue until you reach Farmfoods (a market specializing in frozen foods; I bought us some chocolate ice-creams and a bag of rolls. Turn left, follow the lane to the river, cross the river on the Greig St. pedestrian bridge, go up a block and a half, can't miss it. We got it. Parked our stuff, asked where we should eat, went to Waterfront Restaurant.
Waterfront is, of course, on the river. Lots of B&B guest houses on our street and on the street that fronts along the river. No vacancy anywhere. At Waterfront, it's a bit smokey but we take our chances. I have a positively delicious steak pie. A steak pie is basically pot roast in and overflowing a pastry shell. Unsuitable for
Mokoia House has two labrador dogs -- a black lab named Jess, who's young and rambunctious, and a chocolate lab named Molly who graces the front page of their website. In fact, that was one of the overriding reasons we chose them:

no subject
no subject
paracetamol is the UK-generic name for acetaminophen, yes. Not a brand name. Yes, drugs having different generic names in different countries is really stupid. Co-drydamol is my favourite painkiller. You can get it over the counter here though with a bit less codeine in it than you will have got from the hospital.
You met us at inarguably the low point of our family holiday; tired fractious adults and children on educationally worthy day trip. The falkirk wheel was lovely though, as was the huge playground, and all cheered up later.
no subject
Don't you know you're not supposed to get injuries until you get home? Silly.
You will NOT be billed
Regardless of residential status or nationality, emergency treatment given at Primary Care Practices (a GP) or in Accident and Emergency departments or a Walk-in Centre providing services similar to those of a hospital Accident and Emergency department is free of charge.
In the case of treatment given in an Accident and Emergency department or Walk-in Centre the exemption from charges will cease to apply once the patient is formally admitted as an in-patient (this will include emergency operations and admittance to High Dependency Units) or registered at an outpatient clinic.
Department of Health: "Are you coming to the United Kingdom on holiday or to visit relatives?"
I've looked this up before ...
They are very strict about chasing up fees if you do become an "in-patient" (having to stay in hospital and having treatment) because of the number of "health tourists" we get who arrive in the UK "on holiday" and then suddenly find they need a major operation.
contact any massoglia
(Anonymous) 2005-08-15 07:02 pm (UTC)(link)pd. sorry but my english it not very good
Hope to know something of you
Fernando Massoglia
Chile
no subject
B.C. online
(a) shall I search and replace on my other LJ posts when I saw you,
and
(b) shall I remove the link to your LJ name from my photos on my website?