Wordsley, Stourbridge, England: 10 degrees, a little sunny but overcast.
It has been exactly two weeks to the day since my mother had her knee surgery. On Monday, she went for her first physio session.
Interestingly, the physiotherapist gave my mother various printed sheets stipulating and showing her the exercises that she needs to do every day. For me, this is interesting because it clearly relieves some of the responsibility from the state by transferring it to my mother to do the exercises at home on her own, at her own will.
I’m not sure if it’s the same in Brazil, but my impression is that in Brazil, patients typically need to go to the hospital to do the exercises because they probably wouldn’t do them by themselves at home.
I also think that in Brazil, more importance is given to the state and the health system in terms of validation, not necessarily for the quality of service, which is quite precarious, but also in making the patient more dependent on the state.
Today, my mother would have to remove the clips or staples from the surgery. Instead of having stitches, they used clips, similar to regular paper staples. She had to go to the local GP clinic, not the hospital, and I could see that she was worried, especially going alone.
So, I offered to go with her. I cancelled a class and rearranged it for another time, as it would be no problem. She was concerned about me cancelling a class, and I told her that there was no problem; I wouldn’t lose any money, and it had already been arranged for another day and time.
We ordered a taxi and promptly went to the local GP clinic where my mother was registered. Her appointment was already in the system, and in no time at all, she was with a nurse having more than forty clips/staples being taken out of her leg.
I went out for a coffee while it was being done, and when I came back, she was sitting in the waiting room, shaking. The process of taking the staples out of her leg is a bit like a John Wick film, with total carnage, after a shootout or a stabbing, getting stuff out of your body with blood everywhere, but at least now it’s over.
I think my presence calmed her down a bit, and after a couple of minutes, I ordered a taxi to take us home. At home, I made her a cup of tea and decided to go out for a walk to the local Cafés.
There are two cafés that I frequently visit and like. One is a very simple place that specialises in basic English breakfasts and sandwiches, such as sausage, bacon, and eggs, etc and obviously a tea or coffee. The owner is a young big man, more than six feet tall, and quite fat. He would be very useful in a fight, although after talking to him for about thirty seconds, you realise that he’s just a big teddy bear.
The second café is located on the green, a kind of square in the centre of the village, a meeting point for the locals. The Café on the Green in Wordsley is run by a very nice couple, a Scotsman and his wife.
Although he has been living in the Midlands for a long time, he still carries a very strong accent that, at times, is difficult to understand. The setup is quite professional; the food is very good. The place has a very nice interior décor with a pleasant atmosphere, and the service provided by the staff is excellent.
One of the waitresses is very attractive and somewhat flirtatious. The first time I saw her, I was already seated, taking a coffee and making an entry in my journal, when suddenly this beautiful and attractive little blonde woman entered the café.
Instead of walking from the front to the back of the café by the side, which is quite normal, she went down the middle aisle, slowly taking off her jacket before arriving at the counter at the far end. My eyes followed her the whole time as she slowly walked down the middle of the room, completely mesmerising me and catching my attention.
I thought she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen!!!
One of the reasons I frequent this café is because of her. I find her extremely attractive and intelligent, and our conversations are both interesting and somewhat provocative. I’ve come to accept that nothing will come of it, but she truly captivates me.
This time, I had taken my laptop to the café and worked on writing and preparing a blog post there. It was enjoyable, and just seeing her is really lovely too, which makes my day.
On the way home, I bought a sausage and mushroom sandwich from the first cafe I had mentioned before. When I got back, I rested a little, worked, and gave classes. I was in bed by midnight. Due to the time difference between England and Brazil, I am now giving classes until late and going to bed late, which is not ideal for me.
Thank you.
Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.
Richard
