So, Monday afternoon after leaving work early I thought to get a head start on my blood work and went to the local clinic, which was busy and where I wasted nearly forty minutes until my number came up (they don't appear to give a tinker's damn about your name). Then I was instructed by already overworked clinic staff that they couldn't do the blood work for me given that they were expected to check my cortisol levels and that this needed to be done at nine in the morning. They showed me my good endocrinologist's illegible scribble where I barely made out a clumsily rendered scrawl about cortisol and 9 am. No other details. I was told to visit the laboratory at St. Paul's Hospital across the street. Now St. Paul's is a big hospital and I did not know where the lab was, so I asked the older East Asian (likely Chinese) gentleman in the white lab coat, "where in St. Paul's." With his poor English he thought I said where IS St. Paul's and proceeded to give me directions. Then I told him in slow and careful English: "I know where St. Paul's is. Where in St. Paul's do I go." Neither he nor his co-worker knew.
I went out for a walk and left rather an angry message on my endocrinologist's voice mail threatening that if I had to lose hours of work and income over these stupid-ass procedures then I would likely give it up altogether and happily die prematurely if I have to. The next day, Tuesday, I got a very kind and apologetic call from his secretary. She confirmed to me that at St. Paul's they would do the cortisol test for me.
I wanted to get there early. I couldn't get to sleep and lay awake for two hours. I overslept an hour but still made it to the lab at around 9:30. Everything got done and I was home again in half an hour. I found the staff at the hospital much more efficient, hands on and caring than the poor stressed out doofuses in the clinic.
Weak from blood loss I stopped at home for a peanut butter and jam sandwich with cheese, then went to work where I spent time with a client, then facilitated an art class. Having a cancellation in the afternoon I was able to get home at around 2:30 (and yes I do get paid for the cancellation, and I thank you for wondering!).
I made hot chocolate from scratch while listening to the Mozart Requiem. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sPlhKP0nZII I used to do this every morning until it became only too necessary to lose the weight this self-indulgence had helped me accumulate. I use fair trade cocoa. While the music is on I heat a saucepan to medium and melt a tablespoon of butter. I add and stir in two heaping tablespoons of brown sugar and two heaping teaspoons of cocoa and stir till it's blended. Then I add about three cups of milk and turn the heat up to high while stirring vigorously. I stir five hundred times to the music of the Requiem, turning the heat down at the four hundredth stir. When it is done it is hot but not boiling with a texture like satin. I pour it into a cocoa pot I bought three years ago in Mexico City. It is dark blue decorated with bright yellow sunflowers and bright green leaves. I get two and a half mugs from this batch and it is delicious, especially with a drop of vanilla. While savouring the delicious cocoa Charpentier's Te Deum comes on. The sound of the French High Baroque and beautifully made cocoa are made for each other. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2894qzGTkNs
I was not satisfied to waste the whole afternoon in self-indulgence, lying around sipping sweet nothings and listening to the most beautiful music ever composed, performed or recorded. I read the newspaper then went out at four to while an hour in a local café that I never patronized. It is called Truffles, on the corner of Davie Street and Howe, a bit pretentious, but quiet, the service is nice and a perfect place to spend an hour with my sketchbook. Here is a Google image of the hummingbird I am currently interpreting with pencil crayons and coloured pens, a Violet Crowned Woodnymph:
Altogether an enjoyable if self-indulgent kind of day.
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