All in a day’s work
It has been a long day [so far].
Daughter kindly drove me to St Stephen’s Hospital which is a damned awkward place to reach and park. It’s only glory is that it’s beside our two billion yoyo’s worth of children’s hospital [still not finished] which is supposed to be the most expensive hospital on the entire planet, and probably the solar system. It’s also the place where I got my stent inserted after my wee heart attack.
We arrived on time. We had the apparently mandatory one hour wait. My name was called and we were shown into a very small room where we had to wait another quarter hour. It was fucking freezing in that room. Nurse arrived and shunted us into another small room which was at least a bit warmer. We had to wait another quarter hour before The Man himself turned up. He is billed as an expert in all things face and neck, and he is the man to give me a new nose and even a mouthful of teeth. He poked and prodded and was happy with what he saw but most of all he was impressed with my headband [what Daughter made] that holds my glasses up. He was gobsmaked and insisted on taking photographs to show his patients and other surgeons.
Afterward we headed out but had to pay the parking ticket first. The machine rejected the card three times before finally accepting it. The machine then refused to accept my credit card or even acknowledge its existence. Daughter tried her card. No joy. I had to go to an ATM [which actually worked] and take out a few sheckles. Parking machine accepted that so we tried to leave the hospital.
Note I said tried? The entrance was one of those huge glass cylinders with a constantly revolving door inside. About eight or nine of us piled into this device and shuffled as the door swung around. Then it stopped. And it stopped where we could neither get out or go back. We looked at each other and said nice complimentary things about the HSE. In the end we got out by all pushing the door manually until we could escape.
I was only home an hour or so. It was the St Stephen’s nurse. I have to go back there next week for a CT scan.
Fuck!
I know how you feel.
I was up at Papworth Hospital last Thursday, I think it’s now Royal Papworth, since they dealt with Phil the Greek a few years ago.
From out of door to back instead door two hours & twenty minutes. My annual, “The bugger’s still alive check.”
This time, herself insisted on pushing me in a hospital wheelchair, so a lot easier. Except for herself, bless her.
Her braking was bad as she came up to reception, I remember the look on the ladies face as I shouted out: “Incoming”.
Some parts of the NHS seem to be up to speck.