Boring health-related news:

I went and got an x-ray on Thursday, having figured out that the way to schedule it was to talk to a different receptionist. The tech told me she'd take one, and if it looked clear not take the other. She took one, came in and said she had to do the other and the doctor might want to talk to me. She took the second, which was apparently clear and made me take another. It was also not clear.

The doctor said (I think) that it looked like I had bronchiectasis in my right lung. I'm kind of hoping he's wrong here. They sent my X-rays to the doctor at the Embassy and he said he'd call me when he gets them. I'll know more after I can talk to him.

And as I was walking back from the X-ray place, I turned my ankle in the middle of Oxford Street and scraped up both my hands pretty badly when falling. And the British being so charming, everyone just ignored me. At least I didn't get run over by a cab. I got back to work and honestly wanted to lock myself in the bathroom and cry. But I didn't, which I think is a good sign, really.