Body & Soul3 mins ago
And The Bafta For Best Actress
16 Answers
Goes to Gness! Best supporting actress....the attending nurse with a sense of humour. Best bewildered actor.....the consultant.
I knew when I was taken into the little consulting room I was not in line for the expected treatment so I asked the nurse why I was here. My reaction when she told me it was to discuss the results of my angiogram had to be seen to be believed. I have never had an angiogram. She went to fetch Mr.B
You may think I had lost the element of surprise by her being able to warn him about the mad lady wailing in his room.....oh no...I had lots up my sleeve.
He came in and asked how I was...big mistake...I told him.
I can't bring on the tears so I took off my glasses...well they were pricey...and I banged my head up and down on his desk. I saw him look at the doors so I decided to block his exit by pacing between the doors and telling him everything I had been through since August 1997. He did try to take a breath and interject but I was in full flow. Of course, being Irish I can call on any number of Holy Mothers, Apostles and Saints..although not the Pope at present....to come to my aid in times of distress and this adds beautifully to the wailing and angst.
I think I scared him a little but the nurse was pink with suppressed laughter.
When I said I intended my sixties to be ten years of fun and wild living and his tardiness was putting the kybosh on my plans and at this rate I would be still seeing him when I was seventy...Holy Mary preserve us both... he told me not to worry...there would be no NHS when I was seventy...he was fed up with managers, politicians and patients destroying it...he was getting out.
In the meantime he had no idea what the ultrasound woman saw in my tummy....my arteries were no worse than anyone else's and we should, at all costs avoid surgery.....so I wailed and moved on to Saints Jude and Anthony and would he like to hear about Sqad's high heel remedy?
This interested him considerably but did not produce a prescription for Jimmy Choo shoes. He's decided I need an MRI scan...whatever that is and an appointment with a bone specialist....Mr H. Mr H and I have history since I raided his office in 1999 when he lost OH's notes...so I am seeing Mr V. Poor soul.
Consultants wear better shoes when seeing patients privately.
I knew when I was taken into the little consulting room I was not in line for the expected treatment so I asked the nurse why I was here. My reaction when she told me it was to discuss the results of my angiogram had to be seen to be believed. I have never had an angiogram. She went to fetch Mr.B
You may think I had lost the element of surprise by her being able to warn him about the mad lady wailing in his room.....oh no...I had lots up my sleeve.
He came in and asked how I was...big mistake...I told him.
I can't bring on the tears so I took off my glasses...well they were pricey...and I banged my head up and down on his desk. I saw him look at the doors so I decided to block his exit by pacing between the doors and telling him everything I had been through since August 1997. He did try to take a breath and interject but I was in full flow. Of course, being Irish I can call on any number of Holy Mothers, Apostles and Saints..although not the Pope at present....to come to my aid in times of distress and this adds beautifully to the wailing and angst.
I think I scared him a little but the nurse was pink with suppressed laughter.
When I said I intended my sixties to be ten years of fun and wild living and his tardiness was putting the kybosh on my plans and at this rate I would be still seeing him when I was seventy...Holy Mary preserve us both... he told me not to worry...there would be no NHS when I was seventy...he was fed up with managers, politicians and patients destroying it...he was getting out.
In the meantime he had no idea what the ultrasound woman saw in my tummy....my arteries were no worse than anyone else's and we should, at all costs avoid surgery.....so I wailed and moved on to Saints Jude and Anthony and would he like to hear about Sqad's high heel remedy?
This interested him considerably but did not produce a prescription for Jimmy Choo shoes. He's decided I need an MRI scan...whatever that is and an appointment with a bone specialist....Mr H. Mr H and I have history since I raided his office in 1999 when he lost OH's notes...so I am seeing Mr V. Poor soul.
Consultants wear better shoes when seeing patients privately.
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Many moons ago, when I was 15 I had a major op on my knee. When I was about 25 I had a lot of trouble with said knee and was referred to an orthopaedic consultant.
Him: "I won't operate again but as you're overweight and flatfooted you aren't helping yourself"
Me: "I suppose a date's out of the question then?"
Nurse nearly choked trying not to laugh................
Him: "I won't operate again but as you're overweight and flatfooted you aren't helping yourself"
Me: "I suppose a date's out of the question then?"
Nurse nearly choked trying not to laugh................
What a drama Gness - not sure if I'm meant to laugh or cry for you - both I expect! :) This sounds suspiciously like Leicester Royal Infirmary, am I right? (been there, done that, worn the gown!!) They are absolutely brill at losing notes - I went there for 10 years and in all that time (except for the last year) they did not have my huge medical file details on the computer - just in a bent-over folder! Every time a consultant (and I saw many) picked my file up off the desk, papers, ECG results, bloods etc flew on the floor and they were picked up and shoved back in the massive file anywhere. They could never find the results of tests taken last time. I once offered to go through my own file and put everything in date order for them - the Greek doctor did smile at that and asked me where I went on holiday to the Greek Islands. When I told him he jumped up and said "O my homeland, you love it too?" I soon had him eating out of my hand ............ and got to the front of the queue for my tests that afternoon! When are you having your MRI?
Hi Ann...this is Kettering though I have vast experience of both Leicester hospitals. LGH has a machine gun on the roof waiting for me to drive into the car park once more.
MRI? Who knows.... but within the next seven years I'm told. :-)
It's the waste of my time and theirs and their inefficiency that annoys me more than anything....and the couldn't care less attitude.
MRI? Who knows.... but within the next seven years I'm told. :-)
It's the waste of my time and theirs and their inefficiency that annoys me more than anything....and the couldn't care less attitude.
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