Monday, November 1st
It has rained. A lot.
That’s about all I have to say about today.
Apart from the fact that Rafa says he’s hoping to play in Abu Dhabi. Fingers crossed.
Tuesday, November 2nd
We drew 2-2 at Atalanta. Thanks to Ronaldo.
And infection rates locally have shot up, even though they’re falling across most of Greater Manchester. It’s not clear why, but … well, at one point it was Tameside, then Stockport, then Trafford which had the highest rate in the country not long ago, and their rates all came down again, so hopefully ours will too, but it’s not very good.
Wednesday, November 3rd
Jonathan Van-Tam’s been going on about needing to take precautions in the run-up to Christmas. Then make mask-wearing compulsory, because hardly anyone bothers any more. Someone I know tried to open a window on a crowded bus on which hardly anyone else was wearing masks, to improve ventilation, and was subjected to some very unpleasant verbal abuse.
I have finally got a face-to-face appointment with my doctor, on November 24th. I asked three times if they’d definitely booked it with the right doctor. Then, because I’m paranoid, I checked on the online thing, and they’d booked it with the wrong doctor. So I had to ring up and wait in a phone queue to get it changed.
Going for the blood tests was horrible. Going to the doctors’ surgery has never exactly been a barrel of laughs, but now you end up feeling like a criminal rather than a patient. Arrive a second late and you’re liable to be told that you’ve missed your chance. So I got there a few minutes early. Eight minutes, to be precise. Eight minutes, not half an hour. They wouldn’t let me into the building and made me wait outside. When they finally let me in, they barked at me to make sure that I didn’t let anyone else come in behind me. I’m not sure what I was supposed to do if someone else waiting outside had tried to come in – fight them off? I wouldn’t have blamed them if they had: some poor woman was trying to ask about a letter or a repeat prescription or something, and they wouldn’t let her in and made her yell her business through the intercom – which isn’t easy because it’s on a busy road, with lorries and buses going past, so it’s very hard to hear what’s being said.
I appreciate that doctors are busy. But you never got treated like this pre-Covid, and they were busy then as well.
Thursday, November 4th
The first oral tablet to treat Covid symptoms has been approved for use in the UK. It’s called molnupiravir. You’d think they could give tablets snappier names! In trials, it cut the risk of hospitalisation or death by half.
And Lionel Blair’s died.
Friday, November 5th
Bonfire Night. The local councils have cancelled most of the communal bonfires “because of Covid”, although I suspect that that’s just an excuse to get out of clearing up the mess afterwards.
Infections seem to be very high in Germany, for some reason.
Saturday, November 6th
Oh dear! At least it wasn’t 5-0 like it was against Liverpool, but we lost the derby 2-0, at home. This season is going wrong with a vengeance.
Sunday, November 7th
Been down to London to see my sister and brother-in-law and the kids.
Picture of scone eaten in London!
It was the first time I’d been on either an inter-city train or the London Underground since pre-Covid. Hardly anyone was wearing a mask. But, hey, at least we can actually travel around and see our loved ones again!