Stasi at the Surgery

 

 

I awoke after 6 am this morning and lay there full of fear and ire.  I had to phone the Stasi at the surgery to arrange a blood test ordered by the doctor.  My mind filled, as it does when still asleep, with imagined fears, arguments, responses and abuse.  I attempted to get this out of my mind by listening to the wireless but for an hour I wrote and re-wrote imagined complaints. 

At 7:30 I awoke peaceful.

I forgot to phone at 8 am and remembered after the half hour.  I then called, endured the corporal's long intro and pressed 'Number 2' as ordered.  She repeated the same words needlessly thus increasing the costs to me.  After the overture to an opera a gentler voice informed me I was 18th in the queue.  I put down the phone.  

Some time later I tried again, this time when answered I jumped straight to 'Number 2,' and then the opera overture.  Eventually the music stopped and the gentle voice informed me I was 13th, 13th!!!  "How long do they take to make appointments?" I wondered," I bet it is all those old people at fault."  

Later, I tried again, three times I have called at the most expensive time, at least now I was second in the queue.  Almost 25 minutes had gone by since I first dialed. (Do we still say 'dialed?')  At last the phone rang, and rang...and rang ...and rang...and rang...and a female voice kindly answered as I was muttering things down the line.  

I stated my case and was cheerily fixed up immediatley!  Shocked, I mentioned the Flu Jab I had not been offered.  "Right," she says, "Friday 26th?"  Shocked again I grasped the chance and the morning time offered.  

Isn't it just typical that when you fear something will be a struggle against the powers of evil the reality is very different?  I spent a few minutes checking to see if I was still asleep and dreaming, once convinced I was awake I also checked for bite marks.  None found, I had called reception and lived!  And you say prayer does not work?

I got out no further than Tesco today.  I had to go for those forgotten things yesterday, bread I am not supposed to have, chocolate I must avoid, wine which should not be taken and yoghurt which can be.  I also stocked up on 'Waterstones Voucher Cards.'  You see Amazon, whom you may have heard off, are having problems with 'Visa.'  Visa charges have increased from, if I remember right, 0.3 to 1.5 after Brexit.  The EU had a cap on these costs which we lost with Brexit so the price shot up.  This is now costing the UK £35 billion a year.  Amazon, those friendly staff-oriented people, are not happy and are ending UK Visa cards at the end of January (ensuring they get this Xmas in first).  So Waterstones it is then, which will surprise the members of my family who find reading a problem.  So, happily paying the young lady at the checkout I hobbled back the pretty way, avoiding buses, lorries at the building site, reversing vans up the side road and people attempting to keep a social distance away from me.  I think that was the reason.  Home to cogitate on the work to do tomorrow and wonder if it will get done?  

Monday Mope

An early morning visit from the air ambulance, an orange one instead of the usual red one, as someone somewhere was clearly in trouble.  Not the best thing to hear before 8 in the morning, especially as he hovered above me waiting for the dog owners to clear the way so he could land in the park.  Deperately nosey, I wanted to know what this was all about, however, being desperately lazy I finished breakfast instead of enquiring.

 

Nothing else happened.

I ventured out only to visit the surgery for the anti-cholesterol prescription where a busy woman with a short queue awaiting service aided me, and naturally had no note of my prescription.  Soon, she had remedied this and I was on emy way to the pharmacy across the way where a sour young thing served me efficiently though with all the joy of a depressive.   I reckon it's my bright shining personality that brings out the worst in women...

 

 

Tonight however, is SPAM night!

Soon, the men of the Kirk will gather to put the world to right, discuss matters women do not understand, enjoy one anothers company, and be bullied by the barmaid!
Theological subjects are never raised, as the vicar may feel left out.

 

 

First LIne of Defence

During 1941 Adolf Hitler considered crossing the channel and invading the UK.  Operation Sea Lion was prepared.  He had not succeeded with the Luftwaffe attacks in the 'Battle of Britain,' he was very wary of the Royal Navy that patrolled the coast, and was well aware of the defences onshore.  Pill boxes, barbed wire, anti-landing craft devices, and pools of oil deliberately set alight awaited his men.  However, on noticing a long line of desks spaced out along each beachead he understood that the landing could not go ahead.  On each desk was placed a formidable Doctor's Receptionist, and the head of Germany realised nothing he possessed could get past one of those!

Today, I attempted to get past one of those.

At the end of the queue, attended late morning when the crowd had dispersed.

I waited.  

One by one patients were slapped down into place.  

Eventually I got to the window.  

I say window because under Covid we stand outside in all weathers and talk though a window to the Stasi representitive inside.  No consideration given regarding the weather.  

I enquired about the 'Shingles Jab' on offer to those pver er, 32, and also regarding seeing the nurse.  I was given a time, exact time, that afternoon for the jab and my questions ignored.  Regarding the nurse I was told "Phone up at 8 am in the morning to book."  The fact that 50 others will be doing the same was not emphasised!  

So I may be back at the window tomorrow before I am awake.

Not long before ten minutes to three I was back at the window, waiting. 

Someone was taking a while, a woman looked at me and her eyes over her mask indicated a sense of despair, he was taking a long time at the window.  Eventually he went, the next woman wasted my time as we despaired on the queue.  

I was saved by the Stasi asking if anyone had an appointment.

"ME!" I almost cried, and I jumped the queue.

"Indoors, use hand stuff, Waiting Room 'B.'" ordered the Gauleiter.

Off I trot.  The locked door is unlocked and I enter sloshing my hands in the magic liquid.

I find 'waiting room 'B.'' and wait.

I wait.

I wait again.

A nurse looks out from a door and asks why I am there, she walks down corridor, returns, says nothing and goes away.

A nurse comes up said corridor and passes by.

Sounds from corridor of talking and laughter.

I wait.

Eventually a woman of certain age comes out, and leaves by the outside door, the nurse turns and looks through me.

I wait.

My options are considered, however, just then the screen on the wall demands that no violence if offered to clinical staff.  This, it claims, is not right.

I wait.

Another, different, nurse appears from the corridor and ignores me.

A man enters, sits himself down without noticing me.

Such attitudes are not uncommon here these days.  I blame the London overspill.

I wait.

I continue waiting muttering about how busy NHS staff are and being happy to take my place and wait while more important people go before me.

I wait.

Shortly afterwards the first nurse reappears, calls the new man and he enters her door.

I wait, muttering about being first.

I wait.

An er, chubby nurse appears, ignores me, goes to fridge and removes what to me looks like the injection I am awaiting.  

Hope is kindled.

She passes me by and says nothing.

I wait again.

I have been stood standing here, all this time.  I did not wish to sit and be forced up quickly.  Pah!

I wait.

Then, glory be!  Chubby calls my name indistinctly.  I rush to her room.

She is pleasant. competent, asks all the right questions, by reading them of the screen I noticed, and talks amiably.  She prepares the needle, injects cheerfully, and throws me out by another door, happily informing me that it is raining.

Take away the wait and we have a smart, efficient system.  A good practice, well run, with good staff.

Oh yes, and the Stasi at the desk!

I may be back tomorrow to see the nurse...

 

Good Health

As I proceeded in a westerly direction on leaving the museum this afternoon I was hindered in my perambulation by a man with a van.  It transpired and came about that he was offering a 'FREE' 'Health Check.'  Now normally in such circumstances I would call a constable however I quickly realised that this was an authorised NHS service.  The idea is of course prevention rather than cure, a worthy plan and one most people agree with, and then ignore!  I had considered visiting the doc to get such basic tests to ensure long life and happiness but they are too busy these days, in fact my doc has closed the door or newcomers and will only deal with those suffering a disease of some sort, idiocy doesn't count.  So I took advantage of this free check up which was all conducted by digital machinery!  
Everything was done by use of a wee hand held computer.  This calculated all the measurements he obtained including cholesterol, obtained by a pinprick on the finger, then the trained, but not professional nursing, staff were efficient.  A male dealt with me, a female for the other lot. Nothing you wished to keep secret was exposed or discussed, that is for the GP, no stethoscopes were hurt in the making of this diagnosis.   
My weight, height, waist, cholesterol, Blood Pressure like were tested and he pronounced me to be alive, much to my shock, in fact the results were much better than I thought.  By referring to a series of colour coded charts he pronounced me FAT SLOB!  This led to advice I already know on eating, exercise and not eating cheese.  This last I objected to because I must eat cheese or I die I told him.  It appears many men make the same objection but that is one thing that must decrease.  Bah!  'Porage' rules now.
I was impressed by this mobile health check idea, it reminded me of the mobile X-Ray vans that toured factories in the 50's and 60's.  A very good way to encourage good health.  Naturally a lot of people would not take advantage of this as they are afraid they will discover some illness, or indeed that they require urgent weight control.  The refusal appears somewhat sad to me but I was the ninth today to undergo this quick procedure.  Many things in the NHS require change, and NOT by privatisation through the back door Mr Cameron! The idea of a wee van stopping folks in the street and offering a free check for simple procedures can only be good.  


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Something Happened Today....

....but I am not sure what it was.  I think it may have been what they call'The Budget.'  This is a time when the man responsible for the nations money stands up in the House of Commons and lies in his teeth.  After his long speech, Gladstone's could take over four hours back in the day, the leader of the opposition gets to his feet and offers quotes written out the night before by his friends, even if they don't fit.  They usually do however as most replies to such speeches contain similar words to previous replies, just as most budget speeches are the usual half truths and lies as before.  Most folks stay as they are, some lose a bit, others gain a bit, but the same amount of cash is pushed backwards and forwards and the poorest stay poor, the rich keep their lolly.  Usually these little talks can sound so uplifting, and much cheering from the government back benches ensues.   However within 24 hours more alert folk have exposed the lies, the weaknesses and the dubious nature of what has been offered.  Most of us remain as we were, except of course when it is the last budget before an election, then the chancellor is full of tax cuts, benefit hikes, and anything else he thinks will get him most votes.  With George and his dim PM Dave I doubt they will have the depth of foresight to offer what is required there however.

I myself spent some time attempting to find the 15th century, it appears to have gone missing.  While I can find info regarding individuals it will not connect to the houses I am interested in, which is annoying.  However incidentally I did find a woman living in this house in 1926 who made corsets!  By 1933 a different man was resident and he had been replaced in 1937 by a doctor.  In those days I suspect the house would have offered decent living accommodation plus room for a surgery, one that was paid cash for in those days!  Old medical joke, 
"What did you operate on Jones for?"  
"£100."  
"No, I mean what had he got?" 
"£100."  
The Tories would that day back!
The doctor who used this place as a surgery lost  his father during the war, probably from old age, and he must have done well for himself to be living round the corner in a 'big hoose!'  Probably another successful doctor I imagine.  It's funny the things that turn up when you Google a name.  This does not help me discover info on 15th century houses, or those from other eras but does entertain my little mind. 
  
Oh yes, and the plague in the late fifteen hundreds killed over 800 people in this town, and that with a population of around two and a half thousand.  There were lots of 'doctors' around then also.  
Sleep well!

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