Continues

Today was… Surprisingly not that bad.

Made it on-time to my appointment, only to have the reception staff tell Dr G that I’d gone for a coffee and delay my appointment by an hour – I was sitting reading my book the whole time, in the corner of the waiting room. He was incredibly apologetic when I got to the consultatiion, despite it not being his fault.

We talked for a while about my options, and elected to try fitting it there-and-then, no anaesthetic, no sedative, no waiting. He was irritated that my GP had suggested he could have me sedated there, but was happy to defer to me on the non-use of lidocaine (As was his repeated refrain; “It’s your body, you’re the expert, I just have to listen because you’ll tell me what the right course of action is.”) and was also happy to sign off on a general anaesthetic if I couldn’t get it fitted there and then.

He left the room, I stripped below the waist as-instructed, was handed a stress-ball shaped like an ambulance by the nurse, sat down on the table and promptly burst into tears. The nurse, talking me out of crying and gingerly patting me on the foot suggested that I might be better off with the general anaesthetic, and also probably a large cup of tea.

I promptly made things worse by assenting, standing up to get my clothes back on, and dislocating a hip, flinging myself face-first onto the floor and smashing my nose on the corner of the desk in the process. By the time I was back in my trousers my head had stopped spinning and there was a cup of black tea in my hand, so something must have gone right.

Dr G returned, booked me in for a general anaesthetic at some point “As soon as possible”, whilst also brushing away my apologies with more “No, really, I wouldn’t want to risk hurting you, we did the general anaesthetic last time and it all went really well so we can do that again.” and then sent me over to pre-operative assessment. Pre-op had a slot at 13.20, so I spent the next two hours reading and drinking coffee in one of the big airporty-looking lobbies that StJ is so good at, then went back up at 13.00 and was seen by 14.00. I’d have a letter within ten days, and would hopefully be re-coiled by the end of March.

And then on the way home the bus driver threw me down the stairs, then got snappy about it and insisted that there was no complaints procedure. So I’m going to have to have another fucking fight with the bus company.

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