I think I saw a Pest of Waldrens Swamp go past, along the main drag of Broulee, as I wait out a ‘flu shot.
[Godawful night plagued by fears and realities of a life ending without purpose, shit scared of a vehicle that leaves me stranded.
Then checked the water as I’d arranged, first light – and it was low!
I hadn’t checked the water since the xar service but do the oil, maybe just maybe the car is working properly by warning me of low water.
Maybe just maybe there’s nothing to worry about.
(Woke 6AM after broken no sleep, went to Moruya for toilets and realised it’s market day, back again at Waldrens for oats. Fuel tanker arrived, no doubt welcome where he’s going.)
To Batemans Bay this morning. Shower, radiator fluid, hopefully book it in with NRMA mechanic since mine is full. – written at 8.23 AM]
12.04 PM. Real time posting again. Yes, that looked like one of the Pests. The slithery one, who says he’s an engineer. So it’s at least another night in the truck area even though the obnoxious bastard seems to have gone.
Good news is that driving around today no warning lights have come on.
Flu Shot Today, Covid Yesterday
‘Flu shot at Broulee right arm, covid shot at Narooma left arm.
5.02 PM
Been here at Waldrens an hour and a half downloading backups, and sure enough one of the Pests Of Waldrens Swamp drove in. Tge car stopped a long while so I think he was looking at me. I gave the bird, not sure he saw.
Don’t know if there are two but I am not going around to the good side to be vulnerable.
Back in the car this minute from the Narooma Dr Surgery and the place is a fucking joke.
Here’s the recent story, on top of previous abominations
1. Had a brain scan.
2. Had a skull scan.
3. Had a swab and infection tests.
4 Dr Fuckit said he’d call me when he got the results. He didn’t.
5 Even after me organising an appointment today, rushed out ny Dr Fuckit like last time, I still don’t know any information at all about these scans. Important scans, he couldn’t give a fuck.
6. Appointments are made for by receptionist, who doesn’t give a fuck, for 11 and 11.30. Stupidly, nurse first, for injections, then doctor for advice about injections. But who gives a fuck.
7. I get there 8 minutes early out of respect. Doctors and nurse come out one side calling names, not far and not loudly. Who gives a fuck. I’m on the other side. No one tells me which side to wait. Who gives a fuck.
8. At 11.20AM both doctor and nurse come out and call my name but not coming out far and not calling loudly. I give a fuck so I go to them. I have to manage the interlude because no one else gives a fuck.
It’s fortuitous though because I can now get advice before injections.
9. Dr Fuckit isn’t going to say anything so I explain and answer the question so he has a view of the situation and can speak to it or ask anything at any time. No bites. I’m rushed out.
10. I wait again in one of the seating areas. A different one. At about 11.55 PM I get to see the nurse. The nurse tells me the flu shot costs $35. I find this out for the first time.
11. Tge nurse speaks reasonable English, refreshingly, and appears engaged and enthusiastic. I tell him I am having trouble getting a new GP. And that Dr Fuckit doesn’t seem much to want me. Maybe the nurse will pass that on to Dr Fuckit and it changes for the better.
I have a COVID SHOT.
Depressed, I call C. She’s at Ningaloo Reef. I’m thrilled for her.
I have nowhere to go, and don’t want to go anywhere. I get in the car and go south. Wind hits the car. I’m disconnected and would rather nit be alive. Apparently I’m going to stay in Quaama and decide to try to ignore the Quaama Stalker Creep. There’s no reason at all for me to be alive.
WARNING LIGHTS
About 2PM. South of Cobargo near Quaama.
I quickly pulled over and switched off the engine. Didn’t come on. Turned the engine on and off a few times. Light came on, didn’t, did. I checked water, all good.
Absolute panic. Is this the place I dive at a speeding truck?
I risked it to Cobargo. No warning lights. Checked water again, this is where I could work it out.
My car and eyes trouble always hits on a Friday or Saturday night.
No supermarket in Cobargo. Expensive towing.
I risked it to Narooma. Goat track hilly highway with no places to pull over . Big risk.
Made it. Then to Bodalla. Then to Moruya. No warning lights. 3 PM. Rang mechanic. Can’t see it next week.
Now at Waldrens in the truck area. Because of the pests and the obnoxious cunt. In casevone or all three comes. Forced out by the Friday Threat.
Pleased to be here, though, hugely. I could have been stranded in a very bad place. So unbelievably thankful.
It’s now 4.12 PM.
5.50 PM
Had a look around the corner, no obnoxious bastard or anyone else. (So far, but finally a little good news.)
12.50 AM – ?
Awake and worried sick about the car, my immediate future. My long term future never existed
Rain has hit, as forecast. It’s cold, been windy, dark and wintry and heavy vibe.
Terrible sleep. Woke at 1AM and didn’t recoup much except for bad dreams, after depressive thoughts for hours.
Heavy rain begun, now.
7.08 AM
Didn’t last. Still raining but dropped off. Could be gone in an hour:
Worrying is whether Narooma showers will be working. A plumber coming, I was told yesterday.
An outside shower would be tough today. I’ll ring after breakfast, I think.
10.17 AM
Just back from the reception at the GP surgery. I discovered that my brain and skull scan results had already come in – the new fucking doctor said he’d call me. That’s 4 GPs I’ve had recently who are untrustworthy. No way in the world do I have confidence in a GP.
That’s on top of the 2 in Coffs who for 2 decades didn’t diagnose me correctly (a simple blood test they didn’t do) and who on top of another in the 4, the bastard, led to my eye damage and potential if not likely blindness.
Horrific GP state of affairs. In an otherwise extremely good system (for me, not some, I see).
Woke at 4AM and had a beneficial time in the toilets uninterrupted or unhurried. Colder this morning. The cool change of tomorrow has begun.
Woke depressed. Losing sight of anything productive in this, other than not being subject to daddy’s boy or a sicko every day.
Little shitty acrylic paintings is hardly a reason to live.
It’s welcome though this morning to be away from: highway traffic and especially trucks (adjacent as well), the impositions of the obnoxious arsehole, the same Moruya routine, the need to move away before breakfast.
View at the uppermost spot, no one arrived at this level, relatively empty.
1 12 PM
Shower at the pool. Woolies for groceries. Back to Bodalla SF rest area to paint.
Volatile bloke with the dog turned up, out of the bushes. Yelping and barking going on, per usual. I go down, ask him with a clueless French traveller if he heard the barking. Didn’t hear anything: as if I’m stupid. He pats his dog to shhh it. Laid it out pretty firmly and said I’d mention it to the manager. As soon as I left, instant barking.
He exits soon after, on notice without actually having been told personally.
Not a dog noise since. Very pleasant.
2 PM
Tired especially from painting. Tickling them through. Crap medium.
An elderly couple with a caravan next door. Absolutely shitting myself the generator is coming out, but so far so good.
2.31 PM
2.45 PM
That will do me for painting today. Quite a few hours. Eyes tired me rooted.
Pack up the gear and be careful not to fall asleep.
