What a week this has been!
At the beginning of the week and fed up to my back teeth with feeling so sick and giddy all the time, secretly wondering if a stroke might be imminent as my head felt both awful and wrong at the same time, I bit the bullet and rang my doctor.
I was probably wasting my time and wouldn’t get an appointment, or even the time of day if last time was anything to go by, but I was hoping for a conversation at the very least.
At our surgery, patients must first go through hoops with the receptionists. They are instructed to triage all calls, basically to judge whether you are sick enough to be blessed with a chance to speak to your doctor. They draw the line at dying though, as the recorded message tells you not to bother them; to ring 999.
I made it through the first hurdle and was told my doctor would call me that day. Oh boy, I must really be sick, I thought, but not dying though, which was good to know.
The verdict was an inner ear problem, and a prescription was sent to my local chemist. I was to take the pills for two days, but if the dizziness hadn’t gone to ring back, as she would have to see me (in person!)
During those two days, a very sad family disaster upset everyone’s apple cart, and we finally received notification of the start of Anita’s thyroid investigation at the hospital. We only waited for weeks this time, so that was an improvement.
I felt no better after the two waiting days, so I rang the surgery again. This time, they said my doctor was not available and that my name would be added to the duty rota list. Hopefully, someone will call me later.
Later turned out to be a synonym for never, apparently, as I am still waiting!
Despite such a terrible week, I have managed to continue writing in short bursts, I must admit, but worrying about my characters problems has kept me sane.
Hoping for a quiet weekend… and wishing the same for all of you!
There’s something wrong with me
Unknowing, uncaring, unfeeling
And finally, unwanting of this and
Everything I’m convinced to want
Look at how happy they all appear
Living life the way pictures tell them
Putting in their time in exchange for
Nothing more than a little bit of time
Pulverizing their soft heads against
The immovable wall that’s as great
An illusion as the one who stands
Knowing, caring, feeling, and finally
Wanting of what is drawn beneath
Our noses and pulled just beyond
The grasp of our desperate fingertips