Categories: uncategorized
Date: 03 April 2007 13:35:02
I had my appointment for the follow up on my lesion biopsy this morning (note the past tense 'had'). I opted to use flexi-leave to take the rest of the day off w*rk, and set out for the hospital this morning allowing time for the bus to get held up in traffic, which it didn't. As I had time to kill, I went to make enquiries at another clinic I need to visit, which was a slightly emotionally-bruising (read 'drew water from the wells of self-pity') experience. So then I arrived at the skin clinic reception desk, where I experienced one of those moments when you know something's gone Pete Tong.
Me: Hi, I'm Christina ******, to see Dr ******* at 10.20.
Receptionist: Ah, just a moment (peers at screen) mmm, sorry, what was your surname again?
Me (slight sense of doom): ******
Receptionist: Er, you're not on the list, have you got your appointment letter with you?
(I rummage through my cluttered Tardis handbag and pull out an embarrassingly grubby appointment card, with a horrible irrational sense that either it won't actually say 03/04/07, or that 03/04/07 Is Not Today.)
Embarrassed Receptionist: Er, no, that is today, and that's my handwriting. What's happened is, Dr ******* had to cancel her clinic at short notice, and your appointment has been rescheduled for *next* Tuesday, but seemingly you haven't had notification of that ...
Me (with usual assertiveness skills): Oh
Embarrassed Nice Receptionist: Obviously, the other doctors have their own lists today, but I'll see if one of them could see you briefly. Take a seat ....
Sitting in the waiting room, I reflected that, since I apparently didn't have an appointment that day, my file would not have been pulled and any doctor I might see wouldn't actually have the information I needed. I weighed up the relative merits of telling my boss I'd got yet another hospital appointment to go to next week, as opposed to seeing if I could phone the clinic to get my results (which would involve doing so from w*rk, not good if it was 'er, we need to see you in clinic again ... soon'). I only waited a few minutes, then ENR reappeared and sent me through to a consulting room where 'the doctor will see you for a couple of minutes'. As I went in, I said, 'So have you got my file?' and Nice Doctor replied, 'Yes, I've just looked your notes up on the computer, it's all fine, it was something called a <long name that I can't remember without looking at my notes, has 'derma' 'fibra' and 'oma' in it somewhere>, totally benign, nothing to worry about, is your wound healing OK, lovely, that's all then'. Hurrah! For once, Computer Says Yes. And actually, now I'm telling you all about it, wherever you are, thanks to the wonders of the computer.
Btw, my wound, or rather scar as it is now, is an inch-long horizontal line with four red spots on each side where the stitches went in and out. I think it looks like those aerial views you get of the crews in the Boat Race. Or like a somewhat leg-deficient millipede, which is what the boat crews 'seen from the air' always remind me of.