Last week I read three books, which seems to be roughly the average at the moment. Two of them were by Viktor Frankl and the other I’m not yet allowed to name because it won’t be coming out until later in the year. But here’s a brief round-up anyway. Continue reading “Books of the Week: Logotherapy and Sensitivity”
…she says, just waiting for it to be obliterated.
Last week’s post ended with me about to call the hospital and insist that they give me an appointment. According to the NHS website, the maximum waiting time for non-urgent procedures is 18 weeks. I was first seen on the 9th of March, and have been told several times since then that my case is an urgent one, and yet still I have no date for surgery.
I don’t blame the NHS for this. I’m a lefty, so I blame the Tories.
But regardless of who’s to blame, the fact is that the whole thing hasn’t exactly run smoothly. The week before last I was slotted in for an emergency endoscopy after the hospital forgot to send me an actual appointment, and then they were trying to make me wait until the 31st of July for the results appointment, which had originally been scheduled for the 19th of June. Some more digging around on the NHS website uncovered that, if the hospital cancels at the last minute for a non-clinical reason or otherwise messes up your appointment, they’re required to give you a new one within 18 days.
Armed with this information, last Monday I called the hospital.
I’ve never really been into reading biographies. With the exception of pretty much anything about the life of Kierkegaard, I generally stay away from true stories and read either academic non-fiction, or novels.
But this year quite a lot of biographical accounts have ended up on my reading list, and several of them were amazing enough that I decided to do a whole new Reflections post for them.
I’m defining ‘biography’ quite loosely here, to mean anything where the author draws on personal experience (either their own or someone else’s) to discuss the central premise of the book.
I started the week exhausted and ill, but knowing I had an even more exhausting few days coming up. I was slightly dreading going to Malaga, because conferences always mean getting very little sleep, and if I hadn’t already booked the flights and a hotel with a strict cancellation policy, I probably would have backed out.
I’m so happy I didn’t.