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Cor! Dusty in here, innit?

Sorry.

I am alive. I just haven't been at home (and awake) much. Since seeing you all last I've had two visits to my London specialist, had SIX spinal nerve injections (plus two in my bum), been visited by my Australia-dwelling family, been re-referred to Papworth (and had two appointments) about getting back to work (eventually, DV)... and generally been busy and/or staying with my parents.

Oh. And, given the failure of the referral to the inpatient treatment at St Thomas's (too disabled for disability rehabilitation, I ask you!) I've been referred to BATH. BATH! Assessment on 20th September, so fingers' crossed. Again.

If I get in I'll be an in-patient for a month. No internet. Or regular visitors, given where my friends and family live. *Sigh* Still. If it can get me fi for part-time work again, it'll all be worth it.

Not done any writing, though. I do really (really) want to finish my 3 Sherlock AUs.

But first: Cabin Pressure fan-fiction. Smaller fandom. Less intimidating. (Let me know if you're interested and I'll create a group.)

In an amusing (?) follow-on to the people who think my Mum and I are sisters, however, I have also been asked for photographic ID when buying a bottle of wine. I don't OWN any photographic ID, since my health means I can neither drive nor travel. There was quite a to-do therefore. (Mum had a terrible fit of giggles and was no help.)

For the benefit of non-Brits, in this country you only have to prove you are over 18 when buying alcohol if the vendor thinks you look under 25. And are under no obligation to carry photo-ID.

I am 35. Being asked to prove I'm over 18 is less flattering and more "Vendor must need glasses!"

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natsuko1978
Dee Natsuko

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