There was, to be honest, only one point in the day when I was in danger of becoming over-excited. This was during the phone call from the surgery which told me that the doctor had returned my prescription request as I’d only had a prescription issued on the 7th of this month and it was therefore January before I could have a renewal.
This was a surprise for a number of reasons and I didn’t really do myself justice in arguing my case.
It wasn’t actually the doctor who rang me, and in fact no doctor will be able to speak to me until next Thursday. I pointed out that this would be inconvenient as I only had medication to last until Tuesday, but that was all they could do. I know this because that was the answer they kept repeating to me.
I am therefore officially displeased with being treated like an idiot. Constantly repeating something does not make it either an adequate answer or good customer service.
I am also unhappy because this is the fourth error in three months.
And finally, because of an error on their part I can’t have tablets which I have been prescribed, and which are supposedly necessary for my health.
We have three possibilities here.
One, Julia is part of a complex plot to murder me by messing about with my prescriptions when she takes them to the surgery for me.
Two, my memory problems are more grave than I feared.
Three, the surgery has made an error.
Let’s examine that in more detail.
Means, motive, opportunity. Julia keeps feeding me bacon, sausage, pork pies and chips. No, not as one meal. This isn’t working so she is trying to deprive me of my medication. It’s still an unlikely scenario, though it might make a plot for an American crime drama.
The main problem is motive. After 30 years of marriage I suspect she is either used to me or suffering from Stockholm Syndrome.
All in all, I think we can rule out the complex murder plot theory.
The mental decline theory probably has more legs, though even I might struggle to forget that I’d ordered tablets. I really can’t say one way or the other. Anything, no matter how improbable, is possible.
Finally, the doctor making a mistake. Traditionally, doctors don’t make mistakes. This is partly because they don’t admit it, and partly because, as the old saying goes, they bury their mistakes.
This, unfortunately, leaves only one logical explanation – that I have experienced the biggest senior moment of my life.
Watch this space…
Interesting writing. That link that you include in there that goes to the wiki ‘stockholm syndrome’ is quite interesting. Good work on your article.
Thank you.
Pingback: Diaries, Doctors and Dinner | quercuscommunity
As you rightly suggest, such contretemps are made more annoying as you grow by the faint but nagging feeling that it might just have been you that was wrong. Of course in your case, it will be entirely someone else’s fault. You write too well to have made an error.
I hope so. I may have to start making notes in future.
It’s probably a plot devised by the manager of the surgery to reduce the number of patients. Make them so angry they have an apoplectic fit or so confused they go off the rails. Either way the surgery no longer has to care for them, the GP’s have fewer patients and there is no need to worry any more where they are going to get the extra staff from.
It’s working…
😀
Good luck, Quercus!
Thank you. 🙂
Brilliant, have you ever considered writing a Pantomime script? 😂
I think my best panto writing days are behind me. Oh yes they are…
😂😂
I’m with Helen. Occupy the surgery waiting room.
I’m free on Monday afternoon so I may give it a go, though I may just mutter and grumble…
Hopefully, you will get a call on Monday informing you that your prescription is ready. Or if you’re up for it, a face to face conversation with the receptionist might bring the desired results.
We will see. I’m considering my options. I’m off on Monday afternoon so I suppose I could chain myself to the surgery door handles. 🙂
I too, doubt it’s Julia. You seem compos mentis. I have a feeling there’s a clerical error. And yes, it’s maddening to have the same thing repeated over to you or to be told something is policy…
A few years ago I was actually told “It’s more than my job’s worth.” Until then I’d just thought it was an urban myth.