‘Glowing in the dark’

Why is it whenever I go to the hospital nothing goes according to plan? Yesterday, I left work to attend my eleven a.m. appointment with promises of ‘I won’t be long’ and ‘I’ll make up the hours.’ Ten minutes later, after a leisurely drive I arrive at the hospital twenty minutes early. I can’t believe my luck, there is a parking space right outside the Endocrine clinic. With much reluctance, I push a £1 coin into the ticket machine. Don’t you just hate paying for the privilege of being told your blood pressure is up and your thyroid is still crap? Still, I tell myself a pound, is not that bad for 45 mins. The things I tell myself, I ask you. I stroll up to the desk and approach the receptionist who gives me a mean look.
‘I have an appointment at eleven o clock,’ I say forcing a smile.
‘Name?’ She barks and holds out her hand for my appointment card, which of course I have forgotten.
Determined not to be intimidated I pull my Blackberry from my bag and point it at her like a gun.
‘I have a text with the appointment time.’ I say with an attempt at being assertive.
That throws her and she backs down.
‘Your Doctor’s name?’ She barks again.
‘Frankenstein,’ I mutter but she doesn’t hear me.
‘Has your situation changed since your last visit?’
Which situation would that be? I wonder. What an awful question. Don’t you just feel so embarrassed that nothing in your life has changed in six months? I shake my head miserably in answer to her question.
‘Take a seat, someone will call you.’
I debate reading one of their magazines but after scrutinising the patient who put the Hello magazine back, I change my mind. Anyway I am on time so will probably go in soon. Ah, as if on cue, I am called. I am taken into a small room to have my blood pressure taken.
‘This is your first visit?’ Asks the nurse.
I am already on the weighing scales and rolling up my sleeve. I mean, do I look like a virgin?
‘Far from it,’ I say trying not to be too facetious.
‘Oh, the receptionist seems to think this is your first visit.’
Good lord I forget my appointment letter and everything goes tits up it seems. My blood pressure is up and I swallow two beta blockers and am sent back outside to wait for the consultant to call me. I wait and I wait and I wait and I wait. Everyone who was there when I arrived has gone. I have been there an hour and my parking ticket is about to expire. I feel my blood pressure rising. I approach the desk and enquire when I can expect to be seen not expecting this simple question to cause such confusion.
‘Name?’
My god, has she forgotten it already. I tell her again and she studies her computer screen.
‘What time was your appointment?’
I feel myself shudder at the word was.
‘Eleven,’ I repeat.
Five minutes later and she tells me that she has found me on the system and I am informed that I will be next. I wander outside and push a £2 coin into the machine. I walk back inside feeling like I have just been mugged.
I wait and I wait. I have now been there two hours. I still have to make up my time at work. I feel a headache brewing. Are hospitals there to make you sick? Is this how they drum up business?
Finally, I am called in. It is now 12.30.
‘So ve are having the radio iodine treatment again yes,’ asks the consultant checking my pulse.
I nod.
‘Ve give you, double dose this time.’ Says my German, Swedish, Hungarian, well she’s not English, put it that way,consultant.
‘Double dose,’ I stutter, ‘Is that safe?’
‘Every zing is doubled,’ she nods emphatically not actually saying if it is safe or not.
I try to absorb the everything is doubled concept.
‘So the time I need off work is…
‘Doubled,’ she repeats. ‘Before was 5 days, now every zing double, so off work for 12 days.’
I debate telling her that her figures do not seem right but she is squeezing my throat, in a nice way you understand.
‘I sleep separately from my husband for?’ I ask in a strangled voice.
‘Double, every zing double, you sleep apart for 12 days, no social life for 27 days. This time you are double radioactive. Ve make sure it work.’
Kill or cure huh? I open my mouth and then close it again deciding I do not have the time to argue. My thyroid and I really have not been getting along, so the sooner it goes the better. So, in two weeks’ time I am to come back and swallow a radioactive capsule. I am to be anti-social for 27 days but at the end I have the pleasure of becoming under active. Yes, well, you may not find it exciting but for me it is worth the anti-social behaviour. Thank god for Facebook is all I can say…social interaction with every zing safe.

Advertisements