Over the last few days I noticed that my left middle finger was swollen and painful. By Saturday morning I could not bend the finger, or make a fist (for righteous anger, for which there are so many reasons). The red swelling was creeping down the finger and going a bit purple. So to Ealing Hospital Urgent Care, where marvellous people gave me antibiotics and codeine, and a referral to the hand trauma clinic at the Royal Free for this morning.
This seemed a bit over-zealous, but the marvellous people at the Royal Free stuck needles in me, swabbed me with iodine, and then removed my whole fingernail. Somehow, I am managing to type with a bandaged sausage finger.
Things noted: Hampstead might be the loveliest place in all of London. Also pretty much nobody on public transport is wearing face-covering. I, with my cut-off leg of legging, felt quite overdressed. Even the doctor who did my hand was wearing no mask. Clearly I didn't get the memo. I will continue to wear something when I'm around people in an enclosed area. Apart from anything else, it makes me feel mysterious.
Going to have a lay down now. My manicure had exhausted me.
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