After a hot and steamy lunch date (it’s the gravy), I headed off to Calderdale Hospital for my eye clinic appointment. Street parking for me, using the disabled badge. They’ll charge the blue badge holder £2.80 in the official car park. I’ll struggle with the longer walk rather than pay.
I enter through a back door. A short wander and by accident I discover the eye clinic and use the clever bar scanner read my appointment letter and announce my arrival. Computer says no. A quick and unexpected side effects dash and then over to the reception desk where it’s confirmed I am real. I take a seat in the packed waiting area.
I quickly received an eye test. Right eye rubbish. Left eye good. Then I wait. And wait. I’m eventually called an hour late. An hour with no phone signal or wifi. Hell!
I wander into the consulting room to be greeted by the same consultant I’d seen previously. He asks me if I’ve had the scan results from our previous meeting two months ago. I avoid saying “not from anyone in this clinic” and confirm my oncologist has given me results from her viewpoint. He briefly asks what type of cancer I have. “Lung”. How did you find out?” – “Back pain” I reply.
He’s taken aback. Dead man in the room and no coughing or wheezing! The conversation returns to my eye and he stares at it through his machine. He checks on my medication, which he’d prescribed, and I confirmed to him that the gungy gel was particularly effective. He nodded and said that it should be.
“Next appointment in six months” he says. In my head I think “He probably reckons I’ll be dead by then”. I ask about different treatment but there is nothing he can do. Fingers crossed I’ll still be around in December but the Bell’s palsy will have vanished and I won’t have to attend.
I ask about my deafness. After all, he’s the one who diagnosed it. He tells me to see my GP. I left wishing he’d suggested that two months earlier. So much for joined up healthcare.
Enjoy a bit of Bruce Hornsby and the Range. It rather grabs my mood.