Blockages

I have a blocked nose and a husky voice, the non-sexy version. I cough, sniff and clear my throat with irritating frequency. I produce copious amounts of a vibrantly coloured substance upon the blowing of my nose. I am listless, lacking in energy and motivation. For some two weeks now, this has been my condition.
It is time to see the doctor. I have of course been booked in with the nurse practitioner. She is, I am assured, able to prescribe or refer. As an ex-nurse myself I am fully aware of the awesome knowledge base of many nurses. I only hope they are paying her appropriately to take on what would once have been the doctor's responsibility. (Hark! I hear the distant echoes of a million nurses laughing sardonically.)
Just after midday, I will see this nurse as I have before and found her unfailingly empathic and approachable. I imagine she will suggest a short course of antibiotics, fluids, paracetamol and rest. In two or three days, I hope to be feeling something approaching my normal optimistic and energetic self.

I look forward to welcoming her back.

My next career?

Watching the revisited episode of Embarrassing Bodies this evening, I learned there is yet another pervasive cancer threatening women; namely vulva cancer. Having recovered from the shock of several interviewees saying 'What's a vulva?' (Females!!) I was uncomfortably impressed by a woman who is a vulva heath specialist. She took off her lower garments, sat on the floor legs akimbo and demonstrated how to self-check your vulva to a room full of transfixed Keep Fitters.
The question I found myself asking is - Could I do this?
The answer.....
I want it to be Yes. In truth though, I'm not sure I'm comfortable enough with my own labia majora to investigate it in front of a group of women.
My own hang-ups notwithstanding, women of the world get familiar with your lower portions, just so you know if they're not as happy as they should be.

Humour and horsepower

I pedal around Rugby in an attempt to reverse 35 years of hedonism. My facial expression alters in direct relation to the gradients and whether I'm travelling up >:0(( or down :-))
It occurs to me, as multiple vehicles roar pass me seeming to resent my very existence, that you don't see many smiling motorists. What have they got to be grumpy about? When they reach a hill they just press harder on the accelerator.

Thought for the day

I miss Moray!

What is life if full of care, we have no time to stand and stare

I am Ruth, sometimes known as Ruthie. I am 49 years old and I have a partner of 20 years called Annie. She is truly my soulmate and my raison d'etre.
I have an active mind and an ample body. I enjoy the company of friends, of family and sometimes of strangers. Moments of solitude and reflection help to keep my demons in check. 
I used to be a nurse for people with Learning Disabilities. This was my occupation and vocation for 25 years but now I find myself craving a simpler, more creative life.
I love words and humour and on good days, I manage to combine the two, either with the aforementioned friends and family or while struggling to consolidate my insubstantial writing habit.
I love to write but the activities that define me are playing music, djembe and guitar, singing, talking, listening, cycling, walking my dog, the irrepressible Alfie Derek, wild swimming, socialising, especially in conjunction with libation and sustenance, reading, films, reality TV shows, just being, with Annie and with myself. Writing is often way down the priority list and my goal at the moment is to try and keep it nearer the top.