Another week another load  of metal implants. This is getting ridiculously complicated.
This week was the turn of the dentist fraternity to try to resolve the ongoing saga of a curious incident of the broken drill bit !
The dentist is lovely. His reception team know about teeth. Know their patients. rarely late and they smile. Even over masks. They even ask how the appointments went, ask how you are, how the family are. They are in fact kind empathetic and utterly awesome. On arrival it’s a ring from the car park, they come out, take temperatures, spray hands masks etc. Physio appointments are the same. Face to face. Lots of rules to follow but it is working. I do not understand why GPs are still not seeing patients.
I digress, back to this week:

>> 2 hours in the dentist chair on Monday.
>> Mouthful of stitches which promptly unravelled. Back to surgery every day. Now I have got treble the number of stitches and face like a balloon and bruises to rival Mike Tyson. Best of all and this might make you laugh. He entreated me to take it easy and keep my mouth shut for 48 hours!

>> Gaffer tape needed.

In sharp contrast nothing from new GP despite dodgy test results. He’s probably been silenced by Rottweiler Receptionists. Who cannot be nice cannot remember names and have no medical knowledge at all.

Nothing either from awesome Consultant Infections. She’s probably grappling with third wave that we are all in denial over.

I did however have a random call from a London number. It was the Moorfields eye consultant. Did I know I had an appointment? He asked.

Er no. (me)

Had I had an eye test? (he)
Er no. ……………On account of a bit of a bug going around not had a test since 2019.

That seemed to confuse him.

How was my sight? was the next question. Well er not sure was my reply

Right I’ll organise another phone consultation in six weeks he replied.

So that’s that then.

Another appointment which I had been texted 500 times about. Let alone 5 letters changing the time day name code blah blah. This appointment was with CNS -usually- nice but now too grumpy recently, in urology clinic. Yes urology. Bladder stuff right? First of all she told me I was listed in the wrong clinic. She was glad she’d realised. Ridiculously I apologised. Honestly what the hell has it got to do with me.

Then she asked how my bladder implant was. Not to be confused with all the other implants!
In account of resistant infections it’s been difficult to assess.
Well that met with confusion.
Why was I having infections she asked. For goodness sake. I did not reply. Check out my records you old bat. If I knew the answer to that would I actually be under your Urology team at all. ? 

I just mumbled.

Oh right I’ll arrange a follow up appointment with you she said. Oh and she’d tell Dipstick the good news. She said.

Good news? What good news?

I just gave up. Tried to wish her a happy summer holiday. But she was thinking of the next patient and
She put the phone down.

Hopeless isn’t it?