The last time I wrote think I was trying to persuade NHS to give me test results.

Well my efforts to avoid hospital failed.

I was supposed to be in Scotland. Instead daughter2 came home, ignored my plan to wait til Monday and rang Jerome herself. Poor man. He was calm, logical and reassuring. Into hospital I went, the longest painful pewky journey ever.

Scans and ivs and painkillers sorted kidney bladder. But for some reason spine decided to demand attention. Jerome ever at hand early morning or evening in he stride, funny, chatty, as if not a care in the world.

Jerome summoned Dipstick..

Dipstick lifted my leg off the bed, I winced. So he pronounced a spine issue. #Sherlock He would send a surgeon.

Well of course his Spinal man never did show up.

I went home.

Jerome and I swapped furious blasphemous messages. He took control. Rang his spinal friend. Booked me an appointment. So back to another hospital I went. Lovely spinal surgeon what name shall I give him?

Amazing brand new hospital.

Saw him. Then CT. Saw him again. He showed me the images. 2 discs buggered. Either side of my metal screws. Admitted. Operating theatre. 💉.

It worked. I could walk sit stand and most of all sleep. Phew.

Meanwhile I had rung Moorfields eye hospital eye explaining that as I was in hospital I could not attend their appointment. So they told me I was discharged and had to be re-referred by my gp. I had waited 4 months for the appointment!

How unfair is that.

Another NHS appointment, for bladder, was booked for January . I was telephoned to be told it was cancelled. Would I like an appointment on Christmas Eve? Apparently this was for urgent patients. I’m sorry I cannot do that. I said. I do not live in London. Oh. the lady said, that’s difficult. Next appointment is AUGUST.

So they can change appointments but if you ring with a bloody good excuse for not being able to attend. You are DISCHARGED. Start again. Do not pass go. It’s nuts. Stupid system. They rarely phone. It is usually 20 letters, changing appointments. I bet the did not attends (DNAs) are roughly equal to the ‘do attend on the wrong day’. DAWDs. On account of the bewildered patients clutching 20 letters.

But actually I don’t care. As long as the long suffereing Jerome doesn’t give up. Im ok.

We went to Bohemian Rhaposdy. New cinema. Seats ok for bad backs. We thought it would cheer us up. We loved it. Only trouble was about half way through we both started crying and just could not stop. Freddie Mercury, LIVEAID, AIDS, then in 1991, funerals began. It’s those buried memories that surface. But hey. Its good to cry. BFG was with us. Looked after us. Bought us beer and pizza on the way home. Lucky us. We will surely do the Fandango! Whatever that is!

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