Monday, my daughter was driving me to hospital in my Lexus. She had to swerve to avoid a juggernaut on our side of the road. She was pushed into the kerb and burst the nearside tyre. Hole big enough to take my hand. My Son in Law got me to Hospital with one minute to spare.
Because they were going to inject into my eyeball with a Steroid I needed lots of tests meant another two and a half hour delay before I had the dreaded injections into my eyeball. They lied – I felt both injections.
Another doctor has decided that I need an Endoscopy after I had a naked body examination followed by his finger up my bottom.
This coming Friday I have to have a camera down my throat, followed by a camera up my bottom, followed by a MRI scan.
To make my day the Hospital called to tell me they are sending a kit with full instructions to give myself an Enema before attending on Friday
The day was completed with the invoice to replace the top of the range tyre on my Lexus tomorrow. That was the week that was!
I really believe that if I say “Oh well at least things can’t get any worse” they Jolly well can and will!
After relating my troubles last week, I was driven home from the hospital by my Daughter thinking “How can I write my feelings down without swearing?”
I was supposed to be sent an enema kit in order that I could carry out the process before going into go into hospital for an Endoscopy this morning. I discovered that the kit hadn’t been posted until yesterday. A phone call told me to attend anyway and I would be sorted before the Endoscopy. I am told on arrival that my particular Endoscopy is known as a Flexible Sigmoidoscopy. Yes, I have no idea either!
My charming nurse in Endoscopy sorted me out by giving me the enema herself once I told her that I had left my self-consciousness at the hospital door. That was the first thing that went right today. I then met up with the boss man of the unit, Mr Endoscopy, doctor Ramin, who spent a long time examining me physically including the probing finger after a long discussion with the nurse. There had been several delays caused by other patients with more serious problems and I had received several apologies for the delays.
The boss man appeared at my side saying, “I don’t really know how to say this, continued, “No, no, after examining you I am cancelling all your tests. I am also sending a complaint to the people who sent you for these tests. We need people just ticking boxes to cover their backsides when there is nothing wrong, if your age was down as twenty years younger we could have believed it. We don’t get many 83 years old with a six pack. Perhaps his vision is a bit suspect.
Well dear reader, I must confess that I gave no argument and got my running boots on. At least I got a free enema out of it, I may even follow Princess Diana by calling it a colonic irrigation.