It’s not exactly nice to receive an electronic message on Friday evening telling me my appointment on Monday is cancelled. It’s the third time. It’s meant to be face to face. It’s meant to be about MRI from January 2023. I’ve cancelled everything on Monday. Too late to resinstate.

Ironically the Consultant I’m meant to see was on a research project virtual meeting on Friday morning. He was in his pink scrubs and blue hat thing. The operation list was in full view behind him. Along with mobile numbers. He asked quite good questions. But one particularly rubbish one. “What is a Gantt’. Really. You got to be joking. Not.

All the ‘we must support women’s health’ priorities etc etc is crap isn’t it. Who actually cares? No one.

Meanwhile indwelling catheter situation with my Dad was dire over the bank holiday. Tuesday I raced over. My poor parents had valiantly tried to sort it out chaos. However I managed to get really nice district nurse to come. She and I changed the catheter. Sorted bed. Linen. Blah blah. Poor Dad. But actually he was laughing. We hid upstairs telling funny stories. Because? Downstairs were 8 lovely people playing bridge hosted by mum. Really morphine fuelled as she is – cards have priority booking. Dad was just pleased not to make the coffee!

The nice Dr I spoke to last week hasn’t even sent clinic letter. He was great, I thought. But nothing has happened. In fact GP trained pharmacist rang on a routine BP check up. You will not be surprised to hear it was total hopeless waste of time. Even that they don’t ‘do’ ambulatory BP monitor. I just cannot believe GPs are doing anything to kelp.

Sun’s out. Get a beer. Sit back. Don’t get cancelled !