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?  

NHS Stasi

 

Today I had another meeting with the Stasi!

They had left a message to make a date with the doctor who wished to see me.  So, reluctantly I called at just after 8 am this morning.  Soon, after a long detailed explanation of who I called, how to deal with Covid, and one or two other points I was told to hold and given the music.  Early in the morning I do not wish to hear the overture to a rousing opera, something gentle and soothing, especially as I was then told I was 24th in the queue! 
I held.

The message was repeated

I held.

All this time I realised I was paying for this and minutes were passing at the most expensive time of the day.   

I held.

A message about something else (I forget what) came and went.

The music continued.

I held.

Having heard the music, the intro message three times, the forgotten, urgent, message three times and began to dislike the opera even though I could not remember who the composer was and then I was told I was in 2nd place.

I held.

Music again.

Then the phone rang!

I held.

Eventually a woman come on and after explaining slowly what I wanted, I held while she searched her screen, I discovered the doctor would phone me, most likely because she did not want me bringing virii into the surgery.

I then awaiting her call.

An hour or so later she called, referred to last weeks notes, managed to avoid calling me a fat lump but decided I may need statins.  What?  Only old fat people take these!

As the young lady had spent seven years training I decided to accept her wishes.  This then meant collecting a form from the Stasi, how dangerous, and heading off to the hospital to have blood taken.

Naturally this cannot be done at the surgery unless it is urgent, I am not urgent.  

So this afternoon, hoping they would be in a happy mood I actually entered the building and  met the girls face to face, except for the mask and the perpex screen they hide behind.  

I explained, she looked bewildered, I explained in English, she muttered, her friends looked around or at their screens.  Soon a bot off paper was proferred to me, instructions given to call and make a date, and get out!

Back home I called.

"The Blood Taking department is closed."   

"However, you can book online at Mumble mumble, mumble."

I had to phone back to ensure I got the address right.

This however worked!

After faffing around I got registered, booked in for Friday at 3:10 pm, and the bloodsucker will remove an armfull and have the lab investigate what this reveals.  

In many ways the system is very good.  But the faffing around, the 15 minutes at expensive phone time, and the bother for someone who has no idea what he is doing is stressful.  Especially as I have done nothing since yon time.

However, I am grateful that this is a good surgery, that the NHS is still alive, and that they are around the corner and not miles away.  Things could be a lot worse.

Mind you, depending on the results I may have to go through all this again!