Slough of despair

Feb 23, 2023 by Elizabeth 4 Comments

(UPDATE BELOW)

After my oesophogealitis episode, my innards are not right. I changed doctors practices because of the lack of care.

No one listens to my story, my theory that since such violence in my vomiting, I have displaced summat to the left of my sternum. But before I saw the new doctor, I wrote an email to him which was delivered to him by the receptionist. He read it through whilst we were there, and ordered an ultrasound and local pain clinic visit at the town’s hospital. That’s an improvement because the last doctor made it clear I’d be referred for that to some hell and gone place in the Midlands, miles away.

I am now able to see my patient notes on “Patient Access”. Let me assure you, they are pauce, badly written, and lacking in any useful detail.

I have fallen into a slough of despair about doctors.

They can’t write.

They can’t summarise.

They never commit themselves.

They actually know nothing about you.

The date for my ultrasound is set. So at least someone is going to look!

In the meantime, Bass, our dog, is behaving very strangely. He’s not eating, lying in dark places/funny places, simply lying about. The vet says there’s nothing wrong with him. That cost £75.

Mr Furlong says “It’s almost like he’s mourning.”

That’s put a cat amongst my pigeons!

I hope Bass is not mourning for ME….

UPDATE. Mr Furlong has had to rush Bass, the dog, to the vet. The dog is ILL, not mourning. Awaiting results.