Well I still feel like the Average White band after Tuesdays visit to the orthopaedic clinic. I was, in my mind, turning up for an MRI scan, That is what I had been referred to them for, but no that's much too straight forward it seems.
Just to refresh, I have been bouncing in and out of the local PCOS, which I worked out to mean primary care orthopaedic service, being pulled and pushed in all directions whilst they investigate back pain and numbness and pain down my calf. The physiotherapist concluded I have a trapped or damaged nerve in my spine. I was then referred to the hospital for this MRI scan, that was back in May and after several telephone calls asking when the appointment was I eventually had a date. So off I popped, only to find that I was not having a scan. I was seen by a doctor who asked (again) all the same questions that shouls be already in my notes. All the usual poking, pulling and stretching and the rubber hammer for my reflexes. After all that he told me he would book me a scan within the next 4 weeks. So we're back to square one. If the various departments of the hospital had a mini olympics, oncology would win hands down. My experience of the services leave the other parts well behind. Thank goodness for that though.
I popped in to the barbers today to get it off down to the wood as usual, but it's more a case of asking him to pick up the stuff he cut off the last guy and glue it on to me where my brain is growing through. He had his own crisis when he keeled over in mid cut with a heart problem. This happened around the same time I was going through the bladder operation last year, so conversation naturally turned to our respective problems, he was telling me his daughter gets upset about his health whereas he looks on it as a lucky escape and a warning sign. He said his attitude was "Why me" at the time but after reflection he now sees it as "Why not me" With similar reflection I can completely understand this, and agree with it.
But enough of delaying the thankless task I need to do now. I must get started and do my dreaded VAT return. Yuck yuck and double yuck!!!! Loads of other paperwork needs to be done and out of the way before the biggie with the Breast Cancer man next week.
