Another night of next to no sleep found me bleary eye and jaded and the discovery that once again rain appeared to have set in for the day only added to the gathering gloom. Coffee I decided was my first priority and as the kettle boiled my son appeared on the landing looking ghastly and now unable to utter even his distress at feeling worse so I put my foot down,put him back to bed and rang the surgery as soon as it opened.
Usually it is almost impossible to obtain an appointment with even the most unpopular GP in the practice in under two week, today however I explained the situation and mentioned that Pa was to go in to hospital next week for some long awaited treatment and that if he became infected he would most certainly have to cancel the result of which would be another long wait for smother appointment.
Condescendingly the receptionist declared that she would see us at ten thirty, I called a taxi and got ready to go with my son as he was still speechless. Amazingly the doctor was not running late and at exactly ten thirty we were called to the consulting room, and after a description of the symptoms and the duration of the condition the Doctor pronounce that my son had “a viral infection”. After congratulating him upon his perspicacity I asked what could be done to alleviate the symptoms which now included a hacking cough which further aggravated the sore throatand the asthma fromwhich my son suffers.
Further investigation was now deemed necessary and he shone a light down my sons throat and asked him to say AHHHHH! Not a sound emerged,he felt the glands in the throat and checked his chest with a stethoscope then wrote out a prescription for anti -biotic and told us that the "Infection” needed a little help to clear it. We left the august presence and ordered a taxi to take us home.
Breakfast was an urgent need as we had left home without eating as I had been unable to resurrect Pa,fearing that he MIGHT try to make himself something I promised him scotch crumpets with hot strawberry jam on our return and as good as my word these delightful little delicacies were sizzling on the griddle within ten minutes.
During breakfast the post man delivered my repeat prescriptions in the stamped envelope we had provided,I glanced over then and all seemed well. Several times in recent months the surgery has managed to send only half the prescribed items , and on one occaision nothing at all resulting in a good deal of trouble all round. After breakfast Pa took my son's prescriptions and my own to the pharmacy to have them filled, on his return I learned that the pharmacist had been unable to fill my prescriptions as they had not been signed!
Furious, I rang the surgery and was told by the insufferably stuck up baggage on reception that there was nothing they could do about it, I pointed out that had the Doctor done his job in the first place I would not need to ask the very great favour of having the clueless clot sign it...today! Grudgingly she answered that if I can down immediately she would “see what she could do”
Half an hour later and soaked to the skin I arrived at the surgery and the receptionist said that I would have to wait possibly until the end of surgery, suffering myself from a cold I told her that if I did not soon get warm and dry she would have a pneumonia case on her hands. She took the prescription with a very bad grace and five minutes later returned it with an equally graceless attitude “We are very sorry I'm sure,” she said with heavy sarcasm, that was enough, I went off like a firework at a feast day, publicly taking to task all concerned with the inefficient bungling method and the take it or leave it attitude of the receptionists and when I finished I received a standing ovation from the patients in the waiting room, I acknowledged their appreciation and left with my head high.
Needless to say all this junketing about has made inroads in to my day and I have accomplished little of any consequence, managing only to give the kitchen a clean and to rearrange a few items to make better use of space.
My Chinese dinner was well received and as my sons throat is still very sore iced cream seemed the best thing for afters. Sleep seems to be out of the question at the moment and so I have decided to watch a couple of Charlie Brown movies during the night, I have always felt s great deal if sympathy with Charlie Brown for instance I often find myself saying “Why can't I have a normal family like every one else.” “Good grief.”.......Or words to that effect!
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