CYCLE 5 DAY 17

Today is the day that we have all been waiting for, that chance to place our X in a box and hope for the best, whatever our version of the best is. Like everyone else my partner and I drove down to our polling station and caste our votes, then we got on with the real world of life and relaxation. First stop the GP surgery so that I can give blood for my oncology appointment on Monday. Fingers crossed it is still going in the right direction. I shall know tomorrow or the day after. Always a time of anxiety. The nurse was quick and painless as usual however over the day I seem to have developed a dark bruise around the needle site.

 So without a break we drive to Ragdale Spa and check in by 10 o’clock. I fill in the medical information form and hand it into the reception person who looks at it and says she has to show it to someone else. Sure enough a person wearing a badge saying “Health Coordinator” on it. Apparently, even though I still train in the gym I cannot have a back massage. No idea why but that was their judgement so I have to change my “treatment” options. So I am a spa leper now. Clearly I am a risk to their precious beauty and pampering regimes. So clutching a fluffy white gown and realising I have no flip flops with me we head for the “treatment counter” and I swap a massage for the “man’s hand reviver” session. The admin done I trudge off to the changing rooms feeling a mixture of pissed off and a publicly labelled sick person who needs special risk avoidance. I find I have my Champneys free flip flops with me and proudly don them and wear them all day. That will show these Ragdale people a thing or two! So we meet up and look around the “stuff you cannot do without” shop, which essentially is twee crap. Nothing bought we explore the clothes shop and buy a newspaper.  Time for treatments. So I spend almost an hour having my hands and nails done by a chatty and informative young person who looks uncannily like a marmoset. A good job done, its time for lunch. Thank fully there is enough meat to keep me happy and puddings that can be spruced up with additional honey and fruit. After a post lunch coffee its time to venture into the spa proper and begin to try out all the rooms. So we steamed, reflected, salted and lazed in a candle pool until the urge to swim became too much to ignore.

 I tried to swim a few lengths and failed miserably, I have become so unfit it is untrue. In the end I resorted to walking up and down the pool as fast as I could for as long as I could. I brief rest and some dolphin time in the pool and it was time to shower and go for our cream tea. So showered, shiny and hungry we sat down in the veranda bar and was served sandwiches, scones and a plethora of mini pudding, so many in fact that we ended up bringing a box full home.

 We set off for home anticipating a quiet evening when my partners singing teach text to say she is on the way, which was a bit of a surprise as my partner thought she had cancelled the session. We arrived home to find the singing teacher waiting so my partner got a session she was not expecting. I retreated to the office to prepare for tomorrow’s meeting in London and to write the blog.

 It’s nine minutes past ten and I can hear the election coverage going on on the TV. I am half fascinated and find myself drawn to it but if I am going to survive tomorrow and do anything sensible I cannot afford to spend my night being alternatively disappointed and enraged. After waking up to find Trump president and then finding the British public had voted to come out of Europe nothing would surprise me now.