Sidewalk Bouquet and Hoarder Fishing

I had some medical errands to run yesterday. I've been having trouble with coughing and occasional breathlessness once again, with no obvious cause. In the past I've believed these conditions to be related to gastro-esophageal reflux (GERD, or GORD as it's called in England, because "oesophagus" here begins with an O). But my usual GERD treatment doesn't seem to be having any effect, so I went to the doctor in the morning, and she wanted me to get some standard blood tests and a new chest x-ray.

After seeing her, I walked straight over to the Royal Free Hospital, where I got the x-ray done lickety split. But then the technician told me the results won't be reported for 28 days! Apparently they have quite a backlog. That seems crazy to me, particularly if something bad is going on. (I may get my own private x-ray today, which will report results in about 24 hours. They're not expensive.)

On the way to the hospital I passed these ruffly camellias lying on the pavement -- a sort of springtime sidewalk bouquet.

I also passed this nice wooden basket sitting by the rubbish bins in front of an apartment building. I think it's a baby basket, like a bassinet? It's really nice and if I needed a basket or could think of anything to use it for, I'd have taken it. (And also if I hadn't been on my way to the hospital, because I couldn't very well carry that thing along.) Anyway, I left it there.

As I said, I also needed blood tests. They had to be scheduled, and the soonest the Royal Free could do them was April 20. But I found that Barnet Hospital, in far north London, could do them right away. I made an afternoon appointment there. That left me with several hours to kill, so I did some photo walking.
 

Remember this decrepit shop? I first photographed it way back in 2011, and then blogged about it in 2020. It has grown gradually more and more sad-looking over the years. When I first saw it, it was actually open. In 2020 it seemed somewhat operational, perhaps on a restricted basis because of Covid.

Well, now there are no signs of life. The "Fishing" sign is gone, one of the windows in front is broken and the inside is a wreck. (Never mind the building itself, which judging from the condition of those upstairs windows is pretty much open to the weather and the pigeons. You can't really tell, but there are two of them sitting in the upper right window.)

Here's the interior, shot through the window. I suppose someone could still be doing business in there, but it's hard to tell. That area toward the rear, through that low doorway, is just piled with stuff. It's a fishing shop for the TV show "Hoarders."

Anyway, having checked that out, I caught the tube from Chalk Farm all the way up to Edgware (which you may recall I visited several months ago). I stopped in at a Wendel's bakery there and bought their lunch deal -- drink, sandwich and snack for something like £5. I got a cheese sandwich ("no mayo," the label helpfully reported) and it was the most tasteless thing I've ever eaten. I ate it sitting on a wall in front of the Edgware public library. At least I got to enjoy the day if not the food.

Then I caught a bus to Barnet Hospital, where I had my blood drawn. Afterwards I wandered around the high street in Chipping Barnet, which I'd hoped might make for some good photography, but I wasn't all that impressed. Just a bunch of chain stores and modern shopfronts, for the most part.

The S&M Local was mildly funny. Whips and chains?

I caught two buses all the way back to West Hampstead, where I made a martini and caught Dave up on the adventures of the day, and he, in return, informed we that we had not yet started bombing the heck out of Iran. (And still haven't, apparently, given Trump's last-minute reprieve.) If our objective is regime change, how does bombing the country help? Seems like that pretty much unites the entire populace against us. Destroying bridges and power stations will not win us hearts and minds.