I thought I was doing well this year. No sneezes or sniffles or itching eyes as the pollen count rose. I should have realised when the dogs started to huff, puff and rip out their hair that the hayfever season was upon us again. This morning, I awoke with itchy eyes and feeling like I'd been pulled backwards through a thorn bush!
Actually, although I'm grumbling, it's quite nice to be able to complain about a very minor health issue rather than worry about something more major. Writing of which, my next hospital check-up is beginning to loiter at the back of my mind as I have to go to the beautifully-named "Cancer Treatment Centre" in just over five weeks' time. Little point, it seems to me, in stressing to me that I am "someone who has had cancer and doesn't have it now" if I have to go to a centre whose name implies that I'm being treated for cancer and, therefore, must still have it... I wonder if those who name centres, wards etc. at hospitals ever ask for the views of the people who will be on the receiving end? The more I'm one of those people, the more I realise how language is used to label us!
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