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Another day another course of pills
Feb. 14th, 2008 04:36 pmSomeday this may actually cure my cough. Did I mention that I hate medicine? And hospitals? And needles?
So i was in a less than good mood. (Actually sat in the waiting room muttering "Don't want to do this. I'm going home. I'll get better. I'm leaving now."
Of course things got a lot better when the nice doctor came out. He was apparently this uber-specialist's apprentice (or whatever special medical word they use for them, Registrar? Buggered if I know) and asked if I minded seeing him instead. Hmmm. No. Not minding at all. Ohhh no. Really no.
Well, if you're going to be forced to see a doctor on a semi-regular basis he might as well be really really really cute, right? There's always a silver lining.
Which is necessary because that damn nurse has all the delicacy of touch of a rabid hippopotamus with middle ear trouble AND she was using a damn jackhammer instead of a hypodermic syringe. AND the cotton bud she taped to my arm seems to have been fastened in place by WELDING it to my skin and hair with some new miracle super glue *picks gingerly at immovable object* This thing is not coming off without removing several layers of skin.
And I have a Peak Flow meter apparently. Using it makes Beloved collapse into suggestive giggles every time. He needs to either grow up or find better uses for his inspiration, yes yes he does.
ETA: Oh and a *confuzzled* at the chemist at the hospital. Sexy, cute, innocent-looking-but-I-could-teach-him-a-few-things doctor gave me a prescription for 2 months supply of pills. I take to chemist and he gives me one month supply on the grounds of "policy." I don't even get a repeat prescription so I've got to go and waste my GP's time to write another prescription to get a refill of pills the specialist intended me to have in one neat package
I value the NHS, I treasure it deeply and worship it fervently. It irritates me to think I am wasting its time and resources in this fashion.
So i was in a less than good mood. (Actually sat in the waiting room muttering "Don't want to do this. I'm going home. I'll get better. I'm leaving now."
Of course things got a lot better when the nice doctor came out. He was apparently this uber-specialist's apprentice (or whatever special medical word they use for them, Registrar? Buggered if I know) and asked if I minded seeing him instead. Hmmm. No. Not minding at all. Ohhh no. Really no.
Well, if you're going to be forced to see a doctor on a semi-regular basis he might as well be really really really cute, right? There's always a silver lining.
Which is necessary because that damn nurse has all the delicacy of touch of a rabid hippopotamus with middle ear trouble AND she was using a damn jackhammer instead of a hypodermic syringe. AND the cotton bud she taped to my arm seems to have been fastened in place by WELDING it to my skin and hair with some new miracle super glue *picks gingerly at immovable object* This thing is not coming off without removing several layers of skin.
And I have a Peak Flow meter apparently. Using it makes Beloved collapse into suggestive giggles every time. He needs to either grow up or find better uses for his inspiration, yes yes he does.
ETA: Oh and a *confuzzled* at the chemist at the hospital. Sexy, cute, innocent-looking-but-I-could-teach-him-a-few-things doctor gave me a prescription for 2 months supply of pills. I take to chemist and he gives me one month supply on the grounds of "policy." I don't even get a repeat prescription so I've got to go and waste my GP's time to write another prescription to get a refill of pills the specialist intended me to have in one neat package
I value the NHS, I treasure it deeply and worship it fervently. It irritates me to think I am wasting its time and resources in this fashion.