How to annoy Medical Personnel
1)When getting blood results back, ask for the actual results not the doctors interpretations of them.
2)Inform the doctor that the slight elevation they believe exists is in your opinion within normal parameters, and is not significant enough to require a repeat of the same test a week later.
3)Refuse to attend an additional check up
4)Repeat when pregnant
5)Insist that the hospital doctors etc only speak to your partner and have them follow steps 1-3.
Waiting
Waiting for the baby to be born is very like waiting for a train to arrive while carrying a heavy bag. You don’t want to put the bag down if you are going to step on the train in a moment, but if its going to be a while you would like to go and get a coffee and a paper. Uncertain of whether it will arrive on time, early, or late, you find yourself standing paralysed on the platform, aware that in the time you have spent making the decision as to whether to get coffee you could have actually got it, and arrived back, but that now you are not sure if this will repeat itself or whether you really still do have time for coffee.
Of course, this is a bad analogy as I am eating antacids which I am washing down with coffee and there is nothing I have to actually put off, however the sense of uncertain anticipation is really exquisitely unpleasant. I know, I know, I should be going "yippy oh its all exciting", but I am so, so bored. You have read me whinging about this once already – you will, I know, be bored by this second blog on the same topic. Well, that’s how I feel, only more.
I don’t queue. I don’t wait. If people are late for a meeting I leave. If I am early for a meeting and would need to wait I will leave 8/10 times. I rarely meet people. I don’t do waiting.
I am so, so, so annoyed and cross and fed up and want to cry.
In case it isn’t clear – I have given up smoking. Not that it's having any affect on my mood. At all. ‘They’ say "no smoke without fire" – at last I understand. Not smoking makes you want to shoot people. No smoke – you want to fire a gun. This morning someone said ‘how are you?’ to me – foolish foolish reckless person…..
Yours as impatiently,
The Broken Man
Showing posts with label doctor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label doctor. Show all posts
Thursday, 4 December 2008
Thursday, 14 August 2008
Pain in the neck
About six months ago I dropped a TV on my head.
I realise that this sounds a little unlikely, so let me explain. I have a very big TV which a friend gave me, and which sits on a stand on wheels. To move this TV backwards, I got onto all fours and pushed the stand. In doing so, the TV toppled and fell on my head, neck and back. This resulted in me letting out, not a loud expletive, but rather, a whimper as I crumpled to the floor. I visited our small local hospital, which said that I needed an x-ray and should go to my doctor. I went to my doctor who said that they don’t like doing x-rays on necks; I should take some pain killers and see how it got on. I was in so much pain that I was off work for a few weeks. I then went back to the doctor who said "yes, it would still hurt. Give it time and it would be fine." That was, as I say, six months ago.
My neck still hurts. Rather a lot, really. A constant pain which results in me taking pain killers most days. Feeling that six months is long enough to wait, I booked up another appointment with the doctor, and was whinging at my long-suffering wife about the incompetence of the original doctors for not having X-rayed me, and that if it was broken and has fused wrongly now there will be nothing we can do about it. My wife replied, “that’s what’s compensation is for – if it was damaged and they didn’t pick up on it you would get compensation and you could get it fixed privately.”
I am not a fan of the compensation culture at all. However, when confronted with the possibility of money, it got me thinking. If I suddenly had a compensation pay out (and, no, I won't get one as I wouldn’t pursue it and am not a fan of such things) would I spend it on an operation or getting myself out of debt so I can be a vicar? For me, its no contest. I would happily live with the pain. Okay, okay, I know that’s not the choice I have in front of me, but in going through that bit of mental/physical arithmetic, the pain in my neck doesn’t seem like such a big deal after all – I have far better things to panic about.
So I arrived at the Doctors last night to be told they still don’t think an x-ray is needed and that what I need to do is to see a physiotherapist. There is, however, a very long waiting list. This is one of the things we have come to accept with the NHS, and we don’t tend to worry about a bit of a wait. The reason that on *this* occasion it is so frustrating, is that my company provides health insurance. The health insurance provides private cover for any treatment you need to wait more than 6 weeks for. "Well, brilliant", I hear you cry..."you just phone up the company insurance and its all sorted"... well, no. You see, while the health insurance is provided as a work benefit, the government looks at this and says, "right, we'd better charge you some tax on this", and so by having the company insurance you pay an extra £50 tax a year. In an attempt to sort out the finance last month, I went through everything we spend with a fine tooth comb, and cancelled my health insurance so that I would save that £50.
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
Yours, very probably (but with out X-rays we can’t be sure)
The Broken Man
I realise that this sounds a little unlikely, so let me explain. I have a very big TV which a friend gave me, and which sits on a stand on wheels. To move this TV backwards, I got onto all fours and pushed the stand. In doing so, the TV toppled and fell on my head, neck and back. This resulted in me letting out, not a loud expletive, but rather, a whimper as I crumpled to the floor. I visited our small local hospital, which said that I needed an x-ray and should go to my doctor. I went to my doctor who said that they don’t like doing x-rays on necks; I should take some pain killers and see how it got on. I was in so much pain that I was off work for a few weeks. I then went back to the doctor who said "yes, it would still hurt. Give it time and it would be fine." That was, as I say, six months ago.
My neck still hurts. Rather a lot, really. A constant pain which results in me taking pain killers most days. Feeling that six months is long enough to wait, I booked up another appointment with the doctor, and was whinging at my long-suffering wife about the incompetence of the original doctors for not having X-rayed me, and that if it was broken and has fused wrongly now there will be nothing we can do about it. My wife replied, “that’s what’s compensation is for – if it was damaged and they didn’t pick up on it you would get compensation and you could get it fixed privately.”
I am not a fan of the compensation culture at all. However, when confronted with the possibility of money, it got me thinking. If I suddenly had a compensation pay out (and, no, I won't get one as I wouldn’t pursue it and am not a fan of such things) would I spend it on an operation or getting myself out of debt so I can be a vicar? For me, its no contest. I would happily live with the pain. Okay, okay, I know that’s not the choice I have in front of me, but in going through that bit of mental/physical arithmetic, the pain in my neck doesn’t seem like such a big deal after all – I have far better things to panic about.
So I arrived at the Doctors last night to be told they still don’t think an x-ray is needed and that what I need to do is to see a physiotherapist. There is, however, a very long waiting list. This is one of the things we have come to accept with the NHS, and we don’t tend to worry about a bit of a wait. The reason that on *this* occasion it is so frustrating, is that my company provides health insurance. The health insurance provides private cover for any treatment you need to wait more than 6 weeks for. "Well, brilliant", I hear you cry..."you just phone up the company insurance and its all sorted"... well, no. You see, while the health insurance is provided as a work benefit, the government looks at this and says, "right, we'd better charge you some tax on this", and so by having the company insurance you pay an extra £50 tax a year. In an attempt to sort out the finance last month, I went through everything we spend with a fine tooth comb, and cancelled my health insurance so that I would save that £50.
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
Yours, very probably (but with out X-rays we can’t be sure)
The Broken Man
Wednesday, 30 July 2008
Hospital
Yesterday morning my wife phoned me and told me that she was taking the day of as she was projectile vomiting. Having done the mad rushes to hospitals in the past I suggested she went straight down to the doctors to put her mind at ease that everything was as okay as it can be when you are feeling sick. As the day wore on I tried to call her a number of times but no reply. Finally at 12 I got hold of her sounding very sorry for herself, and having decided she would indeed head for the doctors as she was now really scared and felt like she might black out.
My work is piled up at present and I have deadlines I have to meet. I was pretty sure that this was not something too serious – yet if I am feeling unwell, of course I want a hand to hold. I can not afford time off work, however, not an issue of money – although this is always an issue – but rather an issue of time. The deadline does not stop because I do for a few hours. What if, however, I don’t go? What if they say that actually something is seriously wrong and I am not there with her to support her? I decide that I will pop home on my lunch break and see how she is.
Come lunch time, the doctor has advised her to go to the maternity hospital just for a check up. Both my wife and I feel that this is completely unnecessary. She was aware of the baby moving and was sure it wasn’t pregnancy related – what scared her was the possibility of fainting alone at home. I suspect it was the doctor covering her back. Nonetheless I drive home, pick up my wife and head for hospital. By now my wife is feeling much better. A two hour wait and we are seen by our lovely midwife who is able to confirm everything is fine, and is just as confused as we are about why we are there!
I pick up a coffee and head back to work – with the plan being that my wife will then take the car home with her and pick us up a few hours later from work (“us” being me, and my assistant who I drive into work).
By this time I am very keen to get back to my deadlines, and am perhaps driving slightly faster than I should be. My wife says to me “40” and I assume she is pointing out that there is a speed camera coming up, so begin to slow down, realising too late that I have just passed a speed camera – the ticket and the fine will be on its way. I am now feeling pretty miserable. Of course, this means I am not paying proper attention to the road and nearly plow into the back of someone a few metres up the road. As I am drinking a coffee at the time I manage to cover myself with it, as I slam on the brakes (I never said I should be allowed to drive a car!).
I finally get back to work at 4pm covered in coffee and feeling sorry for myself. My wife picks my and assistant up at 6.45pm. We had arranged to pick up a chair from freecycle (check it out for getting rid of old junk and getting stuff for free!!) so I had borrowed a work van. We now had to drive for 20 mins, pick up the seat, drive 30mins back to ours, 30 mins back to work, drop the van back at work so it can be used at 7am today, pick up my car and drive home again. We still needed to fit in eating, and helping the assistant prepare a talk for a youth camp he is going on in a few days time.
I finally crawled into bed at quarter past silly o’clock and should have been feeling pretty miserable…and would have been…if it wasn’t for the fact that now dominating my bedroom is a glorious beaten up chesterfield arm chair. ;o)
Yours as ever
The Broken Man
My work is piled up at present and I have deadlines I have to meet. I was pretty sure that this was not something too serious – yet if I am feeling unwell, of course I want a hand to hold. I can not afford time off work, however, not an issue of money – although this is always an issue – but rather an issue of time. The deadline does not stop because I do for a few hours. What if, however, I don’t go? What if they say that actually something is seriously wrong and I am not there with her to support her? I decide that I will pop home on my lunch break and see how she is.
Come lunch time, the doctor has advised her to go to the maternity hospital just for a check up. Both my wife and I feel that this is completely unnecessary. She was aware of the baby moving and was sure it wasn’t pregnancy related – what scared her was the possibility of fainting alone at home. I suspect it was the doctor covering her back. Nonetheless I drive home, pick up my wife and head for hospital. By now my wife is feeling much better. A two hour wait and we are seen by our lovely midwife who is able to confirm everything is fine, and is just as confused as we are about why we are there!
I pick up a coffee and head back to work – with the plan being that my wife will then take the car home with her and pick us up a few hours later from work (“us” being me, and my assistant who I drive into work).
By this time I am very keen to get back to my deadlines, and am perhaps driving slightly faster than I should be. My wife says to me “40” and I assume she is pointing out that there is a speed camera coming up, so begin to slow down, realising too late that I have just passed a speed camera – the ticket and the fine will be on its way. I am now feeling pretty miserable. Of course, this means I am not paying proper attention to the road and nearly plow into the back of someone a few metres up the road. As I am drinking a coffee at the time I manage to cover myself with it, as I slam on the brakes (I never said I should be allowed to drive a car!).
I finally get back to work at 4pm covered in coffee and feeling sorry for myself. My wife picks my and assistant up at 6.45pm. We had arranged to pick up a chair from freecycle (check it out for getting rid of old junk and getting stuff for free!!) so I had borrowed a work van. We now had to drive for 20 mins, pick up the seat, drive 30mins back to ours, 30 mins back to work, drop the van back at work so it can be used at 7am today, pick up my car and drive home again. We still needed to fit in eating, and helping the assistant prepare a talk for a youth camp he is going on in a few days time.
I finally crawled into bed at quarter past silly o’clock and should have been feeling pretty miserable…and would have been…if it wasn’t for the fact that now dominating my bedroom is a glorious beaten up chesterfield arm chair. ;o)
Yours as ever
The Broken Man
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