Last Monday was incredibly hot. It was also the day I had to go to hospital to have a tube shoved down my throat, so I wasn’t allowed to drink (or eat, but I don’t do that anyway atm) before my appointment.
The BFF came with me because I needed someone to take me home after sedation. Naturally, the clinic was running two hours late, so we sat in the inadequately air conditioned waiting room until 6pm, at which point I was finally called through.
I went in and sat on the little chair. The doctor looked a bit confused. She kept clicking different things on her screen and frowning.
I decided this was probably not a good sign.
“I’ve brought a friend with me, she’s in the waiting room” I told the doctor.
“OK,” she said. She seemed a little confused, so I elaborated:
“To take me home after the sedation?”
At this point all became suddenly clear, when the doctor said “Oh no, that’s not this appointment! This appointment is when you get the results of those tests.”
“But they haven’t done the tests.”
“Well, they should have.”
It turned out that when I’d received my little pack of information in the post detailing what to expect from the stomach-camera procedure, there should have also been a piece of paper with an appointment time on it. There wasn’t, so I had assumed that the appointment I had was the appointment for the test. This was an incorrect assumption.
The doctor was very nice and apologised profusely. I was very nice back because it wasn’t her fault that someone in admin had fucked up.
She tried calling the endoscopy department, but they had all gone home for the day. She sent me home.
The first drink of water was the best thing EVER. It was by now about 6.15pm and I hadn’t had a drink since 10pm the night before. Which, in 30°+ heat, is not fun.
So, BFF and I went home, and the following morning I called the hospital and explained what had happened. They said the next available appointment was at the end of July, but I uncharacteristically kicked up a bit of a fuss and then miraculously one appeared on Thursday.
Thursday arrived, and once again I didn’t drink anything and the BFF came over and we traipsed to hospital.
This time the appointment actually happened. They sedated me and told me I wouldn’t remember anything about the procedure. This was a lie. The procedure was unpleasant but bearable, and I spent a few minutes pretending the little pulse monitor thingy was really a tiny starship:
Back at my place, the BFF and I watched Black Books and hung out – a tradition that started in art college many years ago, and continues today when one or both of us needs a pick-me-up.
The cat was very happy. She loves BFF a lot. Probably more than she loves me. BFF is excellent at brushing.
Next they need to do surgery, but before they can do it I apparently need to have an appointment where they talk to me about the surgery, which we’ve already spoken about several times. I called them on Friday morning and they said the next available appointment is on the 31st of July. I spent an hour and a half on the phone to lots of different people, and was eventually told they’d call me back in the afternoon, which of course they didn’t.
I, however, spent the afternoon reading up about maximum waiting times and urgent cases (which mine apparently is, making this whole fiasco even more ridiculous), and what their legal obligations are when they’ve fucked up appointments. Today I will be calling them back to insist that they give me something sooner. Wish me luck 😉
In other news, I had a few client calls, submitted some more chapters of my book, which is coming out… whenever I finish it…, and some people came to remove all the furniture from my living room.
On Saturday I was feeling surprisingly alive, so I stripped some of the wallpaper in the living room in preparation for eventual replastering and decorating. The people who lived here before me for some reason decided to put three layers of woodchip on there, so it is quite a big job. It is also quite a big room.
Stripping the wallpaper feels a bit like standing in a sauna for several hours. It also makes your skin feel amazing.
In Netflix news, I started and finished all of Orphan Black. It’s good. I found the first few episodes a bit slow to get into, but after a while I decided I really liked it. I will be following it from now on.
The Pretty Little Liars finale is this week, and we finally (hopefully) get to find out who AD is! I am excited about this. Also, I love Spencer’s hair.
I binge-watched all of Doctor Foster last night. It is good, and dark, and I kind of wish it had been slightly darker, actually. There’s something you think the main character might have done, right at the end of the series, and I wish she had. It would have been awful, but it would have been very hard-hitting, and I feel like the producers backed away from it and instead made it a bit more light-hearted and happy in its ending. I am not a fan of happy endings in fiction. It could have been a very interesting commentary on how people end up doing terrible things, but instead it was a mildly interesting TV show about two people getting a divorce. But very watchable all the same.
This week I have very little planned, beyond yelling at the hospital. Hopefully I will get somewhere…