of appointments and pent-up frustrations

Last Saturday found me out in the garden doing a bit of lopping, pruning and trimming of sundry shrubs. I must have spent a little over an hour enjoying a gloriously sunshiny day, as the shrubs ensured work for idle hands. Two days later, by way of reward for these endeavours, a day of numbingly aching body and soul when even switching on a kettle seemed far too great an effort.

Mid-way through my waking hours on Tuesday, I started to feel reasonably recovered (from the tortuous preceding day) so there was little to suggest the tear-fuelled emotional response to a visit to my GP’s surgery the following day.

My appointment on Wednesday afternoon was with the same GP referred to in the post “once more to the land of A&E”, and therefore a most positive prospect. Once in the consulting room, the atmosphere seemed overwhelmingly business-like as, within the allocated 10 minutes, he wanted to focus solely on symptoms of breathlessness and chest pains, thereby excluding all other aches, pains and painful disorders, from the equation. He said he was going to arrange an appointment with the cardiology department and was also sending me for further blood tests, as well as a Glucose tolerance test (requested by one of the practice nurses who had been checking my NHS Health Check results). It was also mentioned, in passing that I’d not kept appointments with the Chronic Fatigue Unit and, they had now discharged me! For the truth of this see my post “psycho-fatigue”, (which describes my departure from an assessment visit at which I informed the psychologist I wouldn’t be paying any further visits to the Unit and, hence, discharged myself).

As I headed back home, with my beloved, I was overwhelmed with a pent-up frustration and tears flooded out. I felt as if I was being treated as a chest-pain, not at all as a person! When I got home the tears flowed even more freely and I declared that I wouldn’t bother with any of their b…dy tests. Being told that I’d failed to keep appointments at the psycho-fatigue unit, a false surmise, turned out to be the final straw that released all the pent-up frustration.

Ma Belle swiftly contacted the surgery to inform them how distraught I was after the appointment. A short time later I received a ‘phone call from the same GP I had seen earlier, as he wanted to understand why I should be so upset and, at the same time apologized if he’d misread the situation and seemed too business-like!

Early evening our doorbell rang – an unexpected visitor had arrived! The doctor, having finished his surgery duties, had in his own time called around to visit us and enquire what he could do to help! I was assured that he hoped to take a holistic approach and, he once again apologized for misreading the situation. Talk about going the extra mile! The visit ended most amicably and I will be seeing him again on Monday for a further twenty minute consultation.

Meanwhile I’m bracing myself for tomorrow’s early morning bloodletting session at the District Hospital.