Like a big fairy minus their wings.

I am going to need everyone’s help here!

Can we all join hands and paws together so we can hopefully contact the living? Many is the time when I have noticed and thus written of my “Master losing the plot”. Now it’s critical, there’s no helping Him, it’s too late.

It all started Monday when He was trying to contact the local medical centre to ask a few questions re His visit to have His annual wee and blood tests. We start with getting the number from the now redundant Nokia N70, only to find once called, “number not in use” displayed on the upgraded mobile screen. Okay, no problem as He dials the same number on the landline portable handset only to hear a “diss” signal and tried explaining this to the receptionist at the local Primary Care Trust. He asks if she had a SDT (direct) line because as hard as He may He was not getting through on the “low rate” number. The lovely lady suggested another contact number with the same result. by now it was late Monday afternoon and to say the air was blue would be an understatement as we were still getting nowhere fast.

On Tuesday morning there was a flash of inspiration, let’s see if there is any updates on the doctor’s web site... good move He thinks, but no chance.

“Are you guys thinking what I’m thinking at this point?”

Still the same response from both modes of telecommunication and now He is very ratty with the whole exercise ever so quickly. Pacing or should I say more prancing about in the lounge and kitchen continually bashing away on both handsets in a vain attempt to make contact with someone, anyone ! PLEASE!!

Back on to the PCT the same wonderful lady from the day before. Mister Grumpy without a bye or leave does not give the lady time to utter a work, He begins to pontificate how as an ex telecoms engineer (“got a B-tech” He keeps telling anyone who will pay attention long enough) can tell something is wrong and a trained ear can tell if the tone on the other end is “line/subscriber engaged and line disconnected”. “Hello Patrick” whispers an angelic voice the other end, sorry but you have called your office equipment suppliers, you must have misdialled. As you’re on, the glossy paper you ordered is in stock. Put your glasses on, comes to mind!

Back at the Trust a very agreeable listened then rang the doctors from her switchboard and attempted to patch His lordship through, alas without success. This was due to a crossover glitch and nothing else, because the lady (what a saint!), had got a ringing tone. Still unable to get any connection with the centre it was time to chill out and take a little time out to gather one’s self.

The drugs don’t work, I’m telling you guys, they are going to have to be reviewed... they aren’t doing the job. Thirty plus hours after He had re-dialled from the old handset the number, He noticed the WRONG prefix had been punched into both sets. The slug!

Having a doggie left eye from a burst blood vessel, this resulted in half to three quarters of said eye’s vision being somewhere fluffy to squidgy; He had punched in “0854” and not “0845”. The blame was laid firmly at the door of the left eye and there was no more to be said on the subject. Silly old fart, so how come all the other digits were okay, all eleven of them? If you ask me the beginning of the end is banging at the door.... the “little grey cells” are moving out, they’re vacating the host for greener pastures.

From under the armchair

Salvador