Tag Archives: doctor

The First of at Least Two Posts

I managed three posts yesterday – one in the morning before we went out, one when we came back and one because I had time to do it and no distractions. There was nothing decent on TV and Julia was in the dining room talking to her sister on the phone.

This proves that when I have time and inspiration I can write multiple posts. Time and inspiration, hmmm…

I’m going to think about that. I can probably improve my capacity for being inspired, and if I get plenty of sleep I can probably cut out the evening naps, though that’s not quite as likely. I did have plenty of sleep last night, but still managed to fall asleep when Julia went to cook the curry.

The new day came round too early and we left home at 7.05 to get Julia to the doctor for an appointment. That went fairly well, but she forgot to pick up a prescription for me. We found that out when we got to McDonald’s and my early morning cheerfulness, which is brittle at the best of times, quickly cracked.

The dispenser at McDonald’s was out of BBQ Sauce. This is the second time in two visits and the fourth in six visits. How difficult can it be to keep a sauce dispenser filled?

Back at the doctors, I allowed a woman to go through the door ahead of me (because my parents brought me up properly) and she spent the next twelve minutes trying to get a prescription for extra pain killers from a receptionist. It doesn’t work that way, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Sometimes I wish my parents had brought me up to be selfish and use my elbows more.

Then they gave me only half the prescription and I had to make them find the other half, then traffic built up and roadworks slowed us down…

As I say, we left home at 7.05. I got to work at 9.55. And at that point I realised, with a feeling of numb resignation, that things were not going to get better.

For lunch I had tuna with cream cheese, spring onions and lemon zest. It was a bit sharp. Tuna mayonnaise would have been easier, but I had cream cheese left over from the mackerel pate. It seems a bit wetter than mayonnaise and I had to drain it by leaving it a sieve for a couple of hours. More work needed, I think.

This seems like a good time to go for a cup of tea. Julia has just returned home and it will be nice to talk to someone. I say talk, but really I just saw her slip a bar of chocolate into her pocket, so I am nurturing hopes of being fed.

The header picture is a new Robin picture for Lavinia.

 

Doctors, Death and Diaries

I had my phone call from the doctor today and I will be picking up my replacement prescription tomorrow. We had a wide-ranging discussion, with him insisting that I’d had the prescription and me insisting that I hadn’t, and that his own receptionists had sworn blind to Julia it wasn’t on their system and we had never handed it in. After asking me if it was possible that I’d had the prescription and forgotten it (I said no) he conceded it was possible it had been mislaid around the practice.

He then laid into me for not following up on a year-old blood test which shows me have worryingly high levels of something I didn’t quite catch.

“When I rang for those results,” I said, “I was told it was all good and didn’t need any action.”

“Ah, we seem to have coded it wrong.” he said.

I’m definitely going to start keeping a diary of my dealings with the NHS from now on. It’s quite possible that at this rate I’ll end up with a letter telling me I only have 12 months to live, and a second one apologising for the 13 month delay in sending the other letter.

I’ve still not had satisfactory answers to the questions I asked about my two cancelled operations in 2017. I gave up on one of them and the other one promised to get back to me. I’m sure that having taken 30 months to compose her answer, she will have a really good answer when it arrives.

That, I think, will do for the day. Nothing much happened and my brain is slowing down. I probably need chocolate, but that, according to the doctor, would be the same as ingesting poison.

There are some days when, to be honest, a glass of hemlock seems very attractive.

The pictures are from a set of silver Britannia coins we have in stock – they were specially made in 2006 by the Royal Mint and have had an additional coating of matt-finish silver and highlighting in gold. They are handsome coins.

Wasps!

Julia was stung by a wasp on Tuesday and her leg gradually started to swell, turn red and feel hot.

It became worse overnight and was quite painful when she woke up. So she woke me up to tell me.

I wasn’t, to be honest, as sympathetic as I would have been if she’d waited a bit.

She ignored my advice about going to see the doctor so we went off to explore the breakfast deal at Harvester instead. I dropped her off, did a few errands then went home to find her in even worse shape, so, despite her protests, I made her go to the supermarket for advice from the pharmacy.

They told her to see a doctor.

Impressively, she rang at 2 pm and was given an appointment for 4.10. I rang for one this morning, needing to get my painful hand seen to, but it seems not to be a priority and my appointment is for 8 am next Wednesday.

Next time they ask me why I want an appointment I may invent a life-threatening condition. If I’d told them my chest was playing up I’d have been in before lunch. But tell them you have a hand X-Ray to discuss, and despite the pain being too bad for you to pack parcels or tuck your shirt into your trousers, they don’t seem bothered.

She came out with a prescription for antibiotics, because the sting has turned into an infection. They also recommended drawing along the line of the infection to check it isn’t growing worse. That was fun, as the only suitable pen we could find was a green highlighter, which didn’t improve the look of things.

The moral of this story, if there is one, is avoid wasps, do what your husband says and exaggerate when speaking to receptionists.

 

Pre-emptive Post

It’s going to be a busy day today so I’m writing a post in the morning to make sure that I get one done today. It’s not quite my Dad’s 90th birthday but we’re having a party today and another one on Saturday. That way we maximise the number of guests without causing any over-excitement. With the average age of the guests, you don’t want anyone getting over-excited. Or having too much sugar.

I won’t be able to go on Saturday but Julia will be going, as will both kids (work permitting).

Snow is forecast, which is worrying my sister as she doesn’t want me driving in dangerous conditions. We don’t handle snow well in general in the UK, but I’ve covered that before. We have an inch or two a year and the country grinds to a halt. We are always caught unprepared and by surprise. Those of you blogging from America, with your eight inches in one day and your own mini snow ploughs, don’t know how lucky you are.

If I win the lottery I’m going to spend the winters somewhere that doesn’t have snow. I’m tempted to spend it somewhere that doesn’t have Christmas either.

Health news is good.

Monday’s blood sample met with approval and my next appointment is now three weeks away. Three whole weeks!

My arthritis has subsided.

Even my face is feeling quite good, though the remaining stitches show no sign of dissolving. This is slightly worrying as I once had stitches that healed into my eyelid. They took some getting out. I’m hoping to avoid a replay of that one.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Pills. These are bigger and brighter and more photogenic than my normal ones.

I’m off in a minute to collect the balance of my prescriptions. They managed to give me three out of the four items last week and the doctors’ receptionist told me that was because I’d only ordered three.

This clearly isn’t true, but I smiled weakly to indicate that I believed her as there’s no benefit in winning the argument and no point in annoying people by proving them wrong.

I think I’m finally becoming wise…

 

 

A Quick Post

I passed my blood anti-coagulant blood test, and as a reward I don’t need to go back until 11th December. If it all goes well my next test will be either 25th December or 1st January. I may have to rethink this.

On the other hand, I had a text from the surgery telling me that my doctor wants to see me for a face to face consultation and that I must ring to arrange it. This seems an odd way to offer congratulations so I’m expecting a lecture on my health. More precisely, I’m expecting a lecture on my cavalier attitude to my health.

We filled today, when not being texted, with a visit to Springfields in Lincolnshire, followed by a visit to my father, who trounced me at Snakes and Ladders before defeating me at several games of dominoes. He may not know what day it is, and he can’t remember my name, but he’s still got his competitive edge.

My sister complains that I have it too. She says it as if it’s a bad thing.

 

Doctor, Doctor…

Yes, I know I’m spoiling you after three posts yesterday and one today already, but I had to share this snippet with you. 

(Incidentally, I’ve swapped back to the classic editor for this post as I wanted to add four links, to “three”, “posts”, “yesterday”, “today” and “snippet”. The first four are linking back to previous posts, but I can’t see an easy way to do this in the new editor.)

It amazes me that a doctor has been practising without qualifications for 22 years, but in a way I’m not surprised as she was a psychiatrist and I’ve always been suspicious of them as a profession.  It’s got to be the easiest type of doctor to impersonate as it’s all snake oil, smoke, mirrors and theories. I’ve never heard of a fake brain surgeon, for instance. (Apologies if any of my readers are psychiatrists and feel I’m belittling your hard-won professional qualification – but they would have discovered a bogus heart surgeon a lot quicker).

Having said that – there have been fake surgeons – read this if you want to learn more.

It’s a very interesting area, though as someone points out in a related article there are properly qualified doctors who are a dangerous liability, so it’s not just the imposters you have to worry about.

There have also been some properly qualified criminal doctors, as the case of local boy Harold Shipman shows.

Fortunately, most doctors are qualified, competent and affable. (I thought I’d mention that in case any of mine are reading this. There are, after all, thousands of good doctors for every bad one that ends up in the papers, and, apart from that, you don’t want to mess with anyone who can order a prostate exam for you.)

Finally…

 Funny doctor memes

 

 

A Tale of Texting

I’ve had a shortage of texts in the last few weeks. People I have texted haven’t even been answering me, which must surely be a sign of something.

It all came to an end this week. First I had a text to tell me the surgery had tried to call but had been unable to get through.  This wasn’t quite true – they had got through but had put the phone down as I picked up. However, by doing that and texting they made me pay for the call.

Then I had one from the bank telling me that internet banking was going to be down at the weekend. As I don’t use internet banking this really doesn’t bother me. I reckon that if I don’t use it I will be harder to hack.

Finally I had one from my dentist to say they had to cancel my appointment.  I’ve been waiting five and a half months for that appointment and was looking forward to having my crown refixed.

I rang to rearrange the appointment and now have two. One, next week, will fix my crown and the other, in a month, will be my six-monthly check up. I suspect this means that I will have to pay twice, but I can’t keep going for another month with a loose chunk of gold running amok in my mouth. Regular readers may recall me mentioning that I had a similar problem a few years back and ended up swallowing it. At the current price of gold I don’t want a repeat of that.

Actually, it wasn’t final, I’ve just had one to tell me that I’m having a parcel delivered tomorrow. I’m not sure I needed to know that as I’d have guessed when I got home and found a parcel.

Texting used to be useful, now it seems on the verge of becoming another branch of junk mail.

 

My Day

I had to send Julia off to work on her own this morning because I had an 8.50 am appointment with the doctor and the timing didn’t allow enough leeway to get from one side of town to the other.

This brought back memories of sending the kids to school as I fussed round making sure she had her flask and sandwiches (ham and mustard on one lot, ham and pickle on the other – variety being the spice of life).

It wasn’t much of an appointment, just to confirm my new tablets weren’t causing problems and discuss a letter from the hospital.

I ended up being prodded and questioned by a medical student on work experience. There’s probably more to it than that, but that’s effectively what it was. They have to learn somehow, besides, the doctor offered to do my anti-coagulant blood test, allowing me to get on with my day instead of returning for the test at 11.30.

After that I shopped, called at the Arnold Sorting Office to pick up the parcels I missed yesterday, and called at the jewellers.

There, I scrapped in two gold medallions. Although the price of gold has gone down it is still high compared to a few years ago. As a result I got more for the medallions as scrap than I had been trying to obtain as a retail price when I last went to an antique fair.

If only all profits were that easy.

As I prepared to leave a local collector entered the shop. I haven’t seen him for years so we spent half an hour catching up. He’s aged over the years, his beard has turned white and he’s a grandfather now. It was a bit like looking in the mirror, apart from the grandchildren.

I’m seeing more people from the past now that I’m getting round the shops and markets, but also finding that several have died, which is a bit of a shock.

No photos today as I forgot to take the camera.

 

 

Down at the Doctor

First – blood test at 11.40. I managed it just in time after doing a few errands round town.

Despite the experience of the last blood test, which made the nurse more nervous than I was, everything went well. I hardly felt the needle go in and next thing I knew we had a tube of blood. I’ve had no phone call this afternoon so I assume I’m within the correct range and will have at least another three weeks before the next test.

That is good.

Then, after a few more errands, some washing up and cooking a pan of carrot and ginger soup, it was time for my 4.30 doctor’s appointment.

It was the follow up to a letter from hospital about my heart scan. No problem, just a tweaking of tablets. Clearly it wasn’t cause for concern as the hospital had waited two months to send the letter.

I assume the delay is calculated to allow the Grim Reaper to balance supply and demand.

I took my list with me.

We did an Epworth Test to examine my propsensity for falling asleep in front of the TV. I was within the normal band and thus it’s another thing to put down to the aging process.

We will be moving on from there and looking at ways of stopping my nightly trips to the toilet. This will be after I have a month of increasing the dosage of heart pills so we’re only changing one thing at a time.

After five years of disturbed sleep another month shouldn’t harm me. The question is whether I am waking up and wanting the toilet, or wanting the toilet and waking up. There is a subtle difference.

The doctor thinks it may be prostate-related.

I’m hoping that something happens in the next few weeks that diverts her attention to a different conclusion.

If Julia, for instance, notes that I am waking myself by snoring we might still be able to blame sleep apnoea for me waking up. That would be a nuisance, but I would be able to keep my trousers on.

I also dispensed with the asthma test advice that was printed on my last prescription – seems it’s not meant for me.

Weight is holding steady. That’s sort of good news. But not good enough. More exercise, less food.

So, two visits and I’m pretty much in the clear, with no new problems for the moment. I am feeling quite relieved.

 

Monday, Bloody Monday

I have mixed feelings about Mondays. Mainly I like them because they are a new start after the weekend, but I’m prepared to make an exception for today.

Last week I made an appointment with the doctor for 8.40, which is a good time for me as early appointments usually run to time. It’s also, with it being one of Julia’s days off, early enough not to impact on the rest of the day.

Good plan, apart from one thing. She swapped days this week. Not only that, but she was asked to take a cookery session. She was also told it had to be banana cake because that’s what the group wanted. Then she was told she would have to buy the ingredients and claim the cost back.

So, feeling guilty at not being able to deliver her to work, I had to drop her off at the bus station.

At that point one of the “bags for life” gave up the ghost on the pavement. Fortunately we had a replacement in the back of the car.

When I got to the doctor I was glad I had my book with me, as my theory on early appointment timing  proved to be inaccurate. However, I quite like reading, and wasn’t too bothered. I also managed to get out, after a review of my tablets, without gaining any extra ailments, which is always a bonus. I’ve even managed to reduce the number of tablets I take.

In TESCO, my pharmacy of choice these days, I was ambushed and asked to answer some questions on my medication. It wasn’t exactly a searching set of questions, so I suspect I’ve just become a tick in a box. I’m not even sure if I’m irritated by this or not.

Once back home I spent time looking for a set of A4 dividers marked with the months. I was positive I had a set, and even promised Julia I would …

I suppose you can guess the rest. The set I had in mind has 20 numbered dividers, which just aren’t going to do the year-planning job I had in mind.

Did I mention the broadband keeps going off?

And I forgot to buy yoghurt in TESCO.

I think that’s it. I’m making soup in a minute and from there the only way is up.