Ah well, time for my serial encounters with the
NHS to resume. I got rather fed up with blogging about the
NHS and my manifold health concerns. So I won't go into gruesome detail (in case you're munching some sarnies), but the latest version involves sedation and is a pain in the arse. Most of you will guess what that's about. I don't actually believe I need this procedure, but they have a little list and my name it has been missed - for about 7 years.
What this rant is about is the preparation for this wretched event. I can't eat anything for 24 hours beforehand (and I can't eat anything like wholemeal bread, or other fibre rich material, which is actually recommended for the condition I have, for 48 hours). I have to get taxis there and back again, because I'm not allowed to drive with the sedation, but I mustn't bring in any valuables (i.e. the means to call or pay the taxis). The comment that someone (a friend - all working or at the far end of the country; or family - only one - out in the sun in Trinidad) could ferry me in and keep me company, was met with hostility... Worst of all is trying to find a dressing gown to cover the inevitably skimpy and minute surgical gown; hospitals delight in giving their female patients massively huge ones and big, fat blokes like me, minute ones. So you need something to cover your, ahem, modesty.
Now I don't wear such things, so I had to get one. I only need it (I hope) for such things so I bought a cheap, one size fits all one from
Tesco. Sigh. I'm an idiot. The damned thing is made of completely artificial fabric and I have always been a static magnet, added to which it comes down only as far as mid-thigh. So it's doubly no use. I decided to go looking for a shop that sells such things locally - only they don't exist. There was one such place, but that has now closed down and all that is left are places like Next, who don't like fat people like me (actually they don't care, they just don't stock anything in my size), so I have to buy what I need off the
internet.
That sounds easy, only I've left it a bit late so have to pay for next day delivery; but I've had real problems finding somewhere that delivers in my peculiar circumstances.... the office address has a post code that covers three different roads and about 40 buildings, all with their own unit numbers and varied names which are displayed at above lorry cab height. You can guess that deliveries here, if they involve people who don't know the area, go back and forth with address queries. Which has just happened (2 x out for deliveries and then back again to the depot - god bless tracking). Added to all this I'm at work half of the day and at home the other half and no-one will allow you to specify a morning or afternoon slot. But I've finally found someone who will put the thing in a wheelie bin...
Now all I need to do is find out how I call a taxi without my valuable mobile phone when I need to return after the procedure. The consultant couldn't understand why I didn't want what I consider an entirely demeaning, unnecessary, ruddy inconvenient and uncomfortable procedure done.