First blood tests in London

Yesterday Monday I had to do the blood tests, the classic checkups.

Booking in the clinic via email, set the day and go whenever you want. I must say the clinic (pictured) very nice and clean, the girl at the entrance super nice. You leave the sheet, it tells you the waiting time (yesterday 45 minutes …) and then tells me, now you can wait in the room and we will call you …

or all pretty I sit on those beautiful blue armchairs, I start looking at my cell phone … and then I think “yes but he said he was calling me, what the hell do I understand? I don’t understand my name in Italian, let alone said in English”.

So I get up and tell her that I don’t understand when she calls me … and she says to me … “Don’t worry, I’ll call you”.

I spend the 40 minutes like this, then she comes and takes me downstairs. there are the pits. It’s my turn to MIrabelle, who kindly asks me for my name and surname, we check the date of birth and make the sample. I smile in return for his kindness, but little can be seen from the mask. I take a sample and then I confirm that the results arrive by email. I greet you, thank you and go. I review the entrance and greet the girl and go out. End. I would say great service.

I go out and think, and now ????

and here is the background that I left out.

At that time this clinic (where my doctor sent me) was an hour and ten away on foot, but only 4 stops on the piccadilly line (the line that passes under the house). So all happy because I thought, poor fool. “it will take very little time you’ll see how cool”.

Yesterday I go out and go to the subway … I knew there were delays or something … but no. CLOSED!

maybe they worked too hard for the jubilee, I don’t know … completely closed. I continue on foot and I think, maybe it’s Piccadilly wrong, I go further and find the other line. Arrival and nothing closed even that.

Alternative plan. Bus . For those who know me for but the bus is the shifter (assuming that in Italy I take it eh .. just to point out my poverty), but here the beautiful red bus on two floors is not shifter for nothing. However, leaving out this little parenthesis, I go to the stop, the delirium. of people … a mess …. nothing away I continue on foot.

Then comes the plan C, that is the taxi … but practically as I walk I realize that the street is an endless line of buses, taxis and cars and that I do first on foot.

so in the end I went on foot. I walked an hour and a quarter. Done the tests and go back to the point where I leave the clinic I have to go home. As the day was so lost and I was close to Oxford street, what did I do?

I took a nice caramel macchiato in one of the many starbucks that there are and I walked quietly, I went into the shops, I looked at the windows (then of course I went in and bought eh) … and in the end, slowly, almost without realizing it, I went home.

Obviously the nice thing is that then at the metro stop behind the house I realized that it was open and the strike was over.

Sordamaldestra