Waiting

 

Waiting

I received a message a several days ago that told me I was ‘due a medication review with one of our clinical pharmacists’ and to book an appointment ‘ASAP’.  So I did as duly instructed and contacted an extremely flustered receptionist, who was trying to negotiate between three different practices that have been merged recently to make the management of patients, doctors, nurse practioners, pharmacists more effective. She kept apologising for keeping me waiting as she negotiated her way through several lists, with comments like, ‘No, he’s working from home,’ and ‘Oh, she could . . . oh, no’ and ‘Maybe he might be able to’. I felt so sorry for her.  Eventually, she gave me a date and time for a telephone consultation, which was a week hence between 10 and 12 with ‘Chris’.

I wrote the date and time in my diary and, when the day came, I waited and waited. I carried my ‘phone with me in case ‘Chris’ called – I didn’t want to keep him waiting, with him probably being a busy man and all that – but no call came. It didn’t worry or annoy me – my ‘medication’ is only for eye drops and is well-monitored with annual ophthalmology appointments at hospital departments which are wandering geographically from county to county in a search for the most efficient setting. The most recent was in Aldershot, ‘The Home of the British Army’.

The ophthalmology appointment was conducted very smoothly and the ophthalmologist was most complimentary, so much so that I wondered if her eyes needed testing. I am grateful to the optician (optometrist?) who detected a potential problem ten years ago (at least!) and referred me. I don’t like having my eyes closely examined, but it’s a small price to pay to make sure they remain healthy and problem-free.

Meanwhile, I wait to find out if I am commanded again to make an appointment ‘ASAP’ and give grateful thanks for the healthy genes my parents gave me. I just hope I’m not tempting Providence. Superstitious? Never!