It’s been quite a weekend for me. Over four days, starting Thursday evening and ending on Sunday afternoon, I drove around 820 miles, or about 1320 kilometres, or about the length of the River Rhine.
Why?
Let me explain.
For many years–well over a decade–I’ve had an annoying lump on my left knee. I have health insurance through work, and I’ve been telling myself I’d get it removed from the insurance for as long as I’ve had it. Well, this year, I finally decided to sort it out. I assumed the lump was a simple cyst and would be easy to remove–just slice my knee open and remove it.
No such luck.
Initially, I was referred to a doctor in Kettering, about fifteen miles from home. But after two consultations and two MRI scans, he decided he didn’t know what it was and referred me to a Professor in Leicester, about an additional thirty miles away.
That doctor arranged for a biopsy, which I had the first week in November, and I’m still waiting for the results. But last Thursday, I had to go back to the hospital in Leicester to have the biopsy wound assessed. Thankfully, it’s healed well. But that journey represents the first seventy miles of my epic weekend of driving.
On Friday, I travelled from home to Aberystwyth, around one hundred and eighty miles, to attend a funeral. I stayed overnight, made sure to “kick the bar” in the evening and then travelled home on Saturday morning.
So we’re up to about four hundred and thirty miles.
Then comes the kicker.
Our son, who started university in September, was home for the week. He came on the train and was due to return on Saturday evening. But having made the first part of the journey, he called me to say the second leg of his three-train trip, which was from Birmingham to Cardiff, had been cancelled due to “Emergency Services attending an incident on the line.”
He’s eighteen, and I’m amazed I had to explain what that most likely meant.
This left him stranded at New Street Station–not the best place in the world to be stranded–with no idea how to get back to South Wales.
So I did the “Dad Thing” and drove sixty or so miles to Brum to collect him and then one hundred and fifty miles to get him back to his dorm room. After a last-minute hotel room was booked, I stayed overnight and drove back on Sunday morning–about one hundred and eighty miles since I didn’t need to go via Brum this time.
That added nearly another four hundred miles to my trek.
Add all that up, and we’re looking at about eight hundred and twenty miles. It’s a good job I’ve got a nice, comfortable car.
