Just suddenly found myself to be a totally blubbering wreck. I've no idea where the floods of tears came from but, it certainly must have performed some type of tear duct flushing. I was quite happily surfing the net when, suddenly, the armpit discomfort forced me into pressing my upper arms tightly against my torso; it was also essential to put on a wrist support / splint to remove the numbingly aching pain in hand and forearm. Having, from necessity, shut down the PC, I went downstairs to join ma belle.
As my beloved will be seeing her friend this evening, she wondered what I'd like for lunch and profferred the suggestion that maybe I'd like to take advantage of the OAP concession at the local chippie. The fish and chips from this particular outlet are really delicious, a wonderful inexpensive treat, so the suggestion should have been greeted with unconditional enthusiasm! Unfortunately, with my haphazard assortment of gastric disorders, the last couple of times I've enjoyed this feast there have been subsequent repercussions. As this thought passed through my mind, the almost hysterical tearful effusion occurred.
At this point my total distrust of the GPs I've visited recently came to the fore; I've increasingly been made to feel that I'm a nuisance and a waste of their time (wittingly or unwittingly I don't know). Since concentrating on treatment of GORD, any mention I, or my beloved, make of my underlying ME-CFS symptoms / ailments, are swiftly brushed aside / ignored. On the last visit I was asked, in an accusatory manner, why I'd been seeing different doctors (from within the practice), ignoring the fact that on several occasions follow-up appointments booked with the same GP, either online or at the surgery, have subsequently been cancelled, via 'phone calls from the surgery, and alternatives have had to be arranged. I'm also dependent on the availability of ma belle chauffeuse, to get me to the surgery, so also have to work around this; the alternative would be a two bus journey each way and, since 2003 I have found this mode of transport extremely stressful.
When I went to the hospital's phlebotomy department yesterday, for sundry samples to be taken, I was reminded that a consultant endocrinologist had informed the practice that certain of these tests, to monitor my condition, should be carried out at least every six months; this has not happened for the past few years (probably since the previous senior partner, who was my primary reason for remaining with the practice, retired from the practice).
Perhaps the fact that I'm currently on antibiotics, in addition to sundry other medications, suggests that I'm at a particularly low ebb. The opening of the floodgates proved difficult to understand, nonetheless, as I haven't been feeling at all depressed (just ill)! Maybe I'm a little more frail (and vulnerably de-energized) than usual having missed my most recent physio / acupuncture treatment; the physios services were required, to deal with some very urgent cases, by another district within the health authority, which no longer employs anyone in an equivalent position, quite likely a result of the ConDems ideological cuts.
P.S. a rather more upbeat postscript to this posting can be found on my 'Mal's Murmurings' blog, apropos the floodgates.