Showing posts with label dr jacques. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dr jacques. Show all posts

20120527

Monday May 16, 1977

Down the lane with a Spring feeling. For some reason my coiffure is standing on end reminiscent of a good old lavatory brush. Go to my hair stylist and emerge 45 minutes later having waved bye bye to about three quarters of a ton of glossy hair. No doubt the peasants have bagged it up and sold it on the Black Market for   huge sums. If they can do it with King Charles I's miserable, ginger stuff I fail to see why they can't do it with mine.

Home by 2 o'clock. Mum is flat out in bed with her back. She's in agony. Dr Jacques comes but he's more interested in my bloody cheeseburger.

Sue: reading about lice ..
Sue is revising for her hair dressing examination and is reading all about lice and other residents of the hairy regions.

Tony comes up at 3 and we go to Bradford and to (WH) Smith's. I hand over £568.28 to Michelle and I'm sure I've never held so much in my hands (that's money, you perverted fool). Accompany Tony to the Co-op where he attempts to rid himself of some of his wares and then it's back to Smith's where we meet Martyn at 4.45. M bought a new pair of shoes and I bought a large poster of the Queen, in Imperial state crown in the Throne Room at Buckingham Palace.

Martyn and Tony are playing golf at Ben Rhydding this evening. I don't want to go. Saw Spike Milligan on TV and Monty python repeats.

Mummy emerged from bed for a few hours but complained of constant pain. The doc has advised her to buy an orthopaedic bed at the earliest opportunity. Ate fish and chips and retired after 12.

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20090616

Wednesday July 3, 1974

Wake up at 9 still not feeling really fit and Mother rings the doctor in order that something can be done to bring back my apetite. Anyway, Kathleen will need a doctors note dated today, because one is only allowed 2 days sick leave without official notification from the local witch doctor. By lunchtime we still have no word from the fool, and so we settle down to a meal and have no desire to eat it. The doctor came at about 2.15 - a nice chap, Dr Jacques, and he diagnoses food poisoning. We can't go back to work until Monday and we have to take it easy. Hell, the bedroom stinks like a mortuary or something equally obnoxious - all visitors turn up their noses on entering the room. Poor Mum keeps trying to kill the reek of vomit with a perfumed spray but this fails to achieve anything.

See more World Cup soccer on tv in the evening. Who cares whether Bulgaria or Bratislava manages to qualify for the fifth round of this stupid tournament?

Ring Chris. He didn't know Andy and Linda had been struck down. He's going out tonight. Also ring Andy, who is in the bath, but Keith speaks to me whilst Andy wallows.

See a good play starring Celia Johnson - a very good actress - and the play had a good story which ended where you expected it to end and not slap bang in the middle of one of the scenes, like so many modern plays tend to do.

Oh, aren't I a bloody awful diarist? Who the Hell wants to know the mundane circumstances of everyday life in the nasty, boring mid-1970s.

-==-

Sunday April 1, 1984

 4th Sunday in Lent Mothering Sunday New Moon Sunny, bright, &c. Smothering Sunday. All Fool's Day. Busy. Rob came and so too did th...