Uncomic Relief

So after nine weeks of waiting I still hadn’t been told the results of my MRI scan. This is two weeks after I made a series of phone calls to get them at which time I was told I should hear by a further week to ten days but that frankly seven weeks was too long to wait and apologies were given.

Ten days came and went so after two full weeks I got back on the phone and left a couple more messages – it was of course too much to ask that the phone would be answered by a human being but I half expected that anyway. This did the trick and the neurologist’s sectary called me back and gave me the excellent news that the scans were normal. This was a massive relief I can tell you. So all this talk of tumours was totally bogus and had me worrying for nothing. Gee thanks.

That was yesterday. Today I had the complaints people at the hospital finally replying to the message I left them on the phone yesterday, again full of apologies and additionally telling me they were sorry for not getting back to me before now. Yes, I was right to be upset that I had to wait nine weeks to get the results. If I wanted to make an official complaint then that may go towards investigating what had happened and hopefully new procedures would be put in place so it didn’t happen again. What? I’ve got to make an official complaint to get that to happen? Yes. So you already know that you have a serious problem but you won’t do anything about it till I make the complaint official? Yes. You can’t just look into it now? No.

So let’s see if I’ve got this right. The only way I got my results was for me to make a series of phone calls at my own expense after having to wait, on what we are all agreed is, an unacceptable time, during which I’ve been worried sick. Now for you to make sure this doesn’t happen again, it’s down to me, again. Have I got that right? Yes.

At this point I’m afraid the stress of the whole nine weeks since the MRI and the four weeks prior to this when my GP, sorry, former GP, had put the wind up me by talking about tumours in the first place, well, it all got to me and I had a bit of a go at the woman from complaints. No, I wasn’t going to do anything else, as far as I was concerned they already knew all the facts and should look into it without my further involvement. What if my results hadn’t been normal? What if that two months delay was the difference between life and death? Why should it be up to me to do more when they themselves could just find out which idiot or what poor procedure was responsible? No, I’m not prepared to put myself out anymore. I’ll leave it for some other poor sod to have his results delayed two months and let his grieving relatives make the complaint instead. Like I said, I lost it a bit.

Having checked online, it looks like the complaints procedure is a bit involved, so I just left a comment on the BRI website comments page instead. I know that such comments are ignored by the NHS as there was a programme about it on Radio 4 recently but I feel like I’ve got something out of my system, if not what is ailing me in the first place.

This all started with my homeopathic dispensing GP and his less than encouraging initial diagnosis. I’ve now discovered another GP’s surgery close to my home, so I’m going to change my GP. I would now like to point you in the direction of my friend Tessa’s recent blog which is definitely worth a read.

I have an appointment with another neurologist next month. Hopefully, this one will have some ideas about what’s wrong with my foot that don’t include me being at deaths door. We’ll see but for now I’m feeling very relieved. I can start listening to long playing records again and not stick to reading just short stories.

Suggested listening: "Slowly But Surely" by Holly Golightly