Today has been a clusterfuck in more ways than one.
I awoke this morning in a great deal of pain, aching from my legs up to my chest, to a text message from the surgery saying that my MRI scan had been cancelled and that I needed to ring them to make an appointment to see the GP. What better time than now I thought. So I dialled their number. I was only the second caller in the queue, which was somewhat surprising given that time of the morning.
When I finally got through I was met with what could be termed as confrontational indifference. I explained my situation to the receptionist, explaining that I had received a text message, as well as recounting what had happened during my previous appointment with the GP a week ago, which included me telling her that one of the things I was told they were on the look-out for was the big C.
This really didn’t sit too well with the lady I was speaking to. “How do you know that?” she asked. She didn’t seem too impressed when I told her that’s what I’d been told a week ago.
I went on to explain the circumstances over the past few days, how my pain had been steadily increasing to the point where I found it difficult to sit or lie down comfortably, and that because of this, and the cancellation of my scans, I thought it would be best to speak to the GP as soon as possible. She checked the diary, and I was offered one in four week’s time.
So there I was, in a great amount of pain and having had hardly any sleep, being told that I couldn’t get an explanation as to why my scans had been cancelled for another four weeks. Four fucking weeks.
I tried to emphasize the situation I was in, how I was in a great deal of pain and how much stress I’d been under over the past few days. She looked at the diary again and found an appointment in two weeks. Two fucking weeks.
Eventually, and with my voice cracking and almost in tears, I managed to get an appointment for next Monday. But given the way I was feeling I asked if I could speak to the practice manager because I simply wasn’t happy with the way things had played out.
I was on hold for another fifteen minutes before someone finally spoke to me. An able deputy had been looking into the situation while I’d been on hold and had tried to phone me but she couldn’t get through. I explained that she couldn’t get through because I’d been on hold to the surgery for fifteen minutes.
A few minutes later she called me back, and it was nice to actually have someone who was willing to listen to my concerns as I explained the situation for what seemed like the umpteenth time. Credit where credit’s due she said she’d speak to the GP to see if she could call me later in the afternoon. Confirmation of this call came a few minutes later.
I basically spent the day feeling like crap and worrying about what the hell was going on until the GP called me a few hours later. She was just as good as she was last week, and was more than happy to explain the situation to me.
That situation is this: despite the concerns about my symptoms, my samples came back clear. There was nothing wrong with them. In short, this means I don’t have cancer, which was one of the things they were looking for.
Given my current symptoms, the fact that it hurts like hell when I go to the toilet, the fact that I ache like hell from my legs up to my abdomen and ribs, and the pain is increasing to the point where over the counter painkillers are starting to lose their effect, she’s put in a request for someone to take another look at me sometime this week, if anyone is available.
There is the possibility that I could have some kind of nerve damage, possibly sciatica, which would explain why my legs and back are hurting like crazy at the moment. There’s also the possibility that the rib pain could be a chest infection.
Considering I had to jump through the proverbial hoops just to get that far says a lot at the moment. I’m a big fan of the NHS, especially after what they went through during the pandemic, but I shouldn’t have had to be almost in tears almost begging a receptionist to let me see or speak to someone. It should never have gotten that far.
But as I found out that I don’t have cancer, I suppose that’s one thing to celebrate, although I don’t really feel like celebrating at the moment.
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