On a recent visit to London, my son wanted to try the new Elizabeth Line Crossrail line. We jumped on at Paddington and hopped off at Canary Wharf, wandered around, took a couple of photos, ate a pizza, then headed back west to Trafalgar Square and Westminster.
This photo of the canal separating Churchill Place from the rest of Canary Wharf, joined only by an enclosed footbridge is my favorite from that location.
I shall remember this day though as the day my gallbladder attacked me. With the pain coming on late afternoon and running without letup through the night, early in the morning I went to A&E and my first experience in a long time with the NHS.
I was in A&E for about four hours before moving to a waiting room where I waited another four hours before an ultrasound confirmed my pain was gallbladder related. Then I waited another eight hours before a bed was available. The entire day passed with just water, no food. Not that I was really in the mood to eat.
I then spent the next three days in a ward with three other beds where the characters changed daily, desperately hoping the Consultant would let me return to the us on my scheduled flight, which he eventually did about 18 hours before takeoff.
Back in the us, I saw my Primary Care who sent me to a Surgeon, who put me on two rounds of antibiotics before I finally had my gallbladder removed. Ten days on from that and I'm feeling much better and now just waiting for my insurance company to approve the replacement of my left knee.
Fingers Crossed!
