Seeing the future, seeing the guts.

In Thursday, in attempting to not get sent back to hospital with horrible muscle spasms, I phoned my GP. After a quick chat to the receptionist, I got through to Dr C, who sounded panicky and sad, and prescribed me some emergency diazepam, which a friend picked up from the pharmacy for me, thne told me to go in for an appointment the next day with Dr R.

Dr R is great – He’s always a bit harrassed-looking, but he wants to get things sorted and he likes me, and he’s not superstitious about giving me medication. He swapped my naproxen for diclofenac earlier this year, and now he’s increased my morphine back up to pre-new-practice levels (ie – 400ml a month instead of 300ml, which should put me back to being in a sensible equilibrium). He’s also told me that he’s phoned Stanmore abot my referral, and that I should be hearing back from them, and that he’s now booked me in for a spinal MRI in case my discs have prolapsed, since that could be where the pain is coming from.

He’s also cleared up that it is definitely Rheumatology’s job to get me MRI or ultrasound on the hip and shoulder, so I can argue with them about that on Wenesday. I’m also going to use Wenesday to push to be given a repeat prescription of diazepam, since constantly getting emergency benzos is more stress than I need.

Next week is the contraceptive clinic. I am not looking forward to it. I may need to arrange transport, since I intend not to be very concious for most of it.

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