what a week.

Tuesday:

12 hours of my life I won’t get back locked in a basement of a hotel by the Shard not in it sadly.

Secret prototype testing with the American company. I’d met one of the team before. That was in a dingy ship filled office in Westmoreland St. I remember then that Jerome so happened to be passing and asked what they thought of Trump. A suitably diplomatic answer was the reply.

Fast forward two years and

Mr American Prototype remembered the ship, the Jerome and the Trump! ‘Unbelievably he’s still there ‘ he grinned and added: ‘My answer still stands! ‘

Such a long day. No breaks apart from a quick £5 coffee upstairs while they ‘recalibrated’? Whatever that meant. Hope I can claim the coffee.

If I tell you any more I will of course have to shoot you.

Not to belittle the real shooting in some Hilton hotel in Washington and the remarkable speech by King Charles. However cynical I might be about all the Royal frippery ( is that a word?) who else could possibly get away with all that banter and underlying head bashing. Remarkable speech. Whoever wrote it deserves a beer or 10.

12 hours after I’d left home I made it back. Crashing headache and pouring in my home antibiotic paracetamol cocktail .

If you want to use patients it’d be good to look after them a bit. Just saying.

Thursday

Today, was the scheduled ultrasound scan at the ‘Tower’. Got there easy peasy. I knew it was all going to be a hassle the moment the receptionist ( trained in the Rottweiler school of receptionists) couldn’t find my name. Couldn’t hear me yelling it. Spelling it. Yelling my date of birth. NHS number. Hospital number. Every number I could think of. Everyone in the waiting room could hear but she couldn’t.

I should have could have remembered what the issue is. Having been at this hospital since 2010 …

Two hours later a nurse appeared calling for Mary Empanadas – dammit of course it was me. Despite all their high tech stupid Eric data system profile edits verbal edits and just everything edits my name is and has always been Mary there. Variation on Empkins Eeemkeees etc for the surname.

The sonographer looked aghast when I said ‘ my name is NOT MARY’. He and nurse hastily checked their pieces of paper my mhs number date of birth and hospital number and confirmed my name was Mary. Because, the nurse said I don’t know how to pronounce your name and it is Mary on the system. God knows what happens to the report.

Meanwhile just to add to the fun week I’ve had to spend hours on the phone to catheter prescriber. In the past hospitals discharge you with a particular catheter. To order more supplies was a quick website request to a company called Charter. They raise a prescription to GP who approves it. Supplies arrive speedily and efficiently. GP relies on the experts ie Charter and indeed the patient, to order the correct and appropriate product. GP couldn’t possibly know all the different sorts and personal needs of individual patients The system was brilliant. No wastage. No confusion. No incorrect prescribing.

Fast forward to the last year when for who knows what reason NHS has set up a ‘ prescriber’ in each region. Prescriber has never met the patient. Has no knowledge of the products the needs the personal nature of these devices. I’ve heard horror stories from all over the uk of patients being moved off their preferred products, wastage, infections, pain, injuries even,not to forget tears of frustration.

This week was my turn. Cutting a long story short Mr Prescriber could not understand that I needed to re order my personal female catheters and a smaller amount of a longer catheter which is used for gentamicin instils. The later being essential right now.

The resulting prescription was to be sent to GP and then to charter and then dispatched. Luckily Charter intervened and asked me for an address confirmation due to the lorry load of 240 male catheters which had been ordered. The call handler could not advise me except to cancel the whole delivery.

My link at Coloplast / Charter answered my anguished pleas for help. She organised an urology nurse to ring me, interrogate the system, told me product codes, supplier codes, secret codes …

Another call then to prescriber. I rattled off my codes. He seemed to accept that and with any luck they will be dispensed albeit via GP via Charter via courier. It makes no sense at all. What do people do ? At least I have a direct link to break the chain. What about everyone else ?

Mr Prescriber poor man hasn’t a clue. When he rings he asks if I need more ‘appliances’. The first time I thought he meant a new washing machine and said no thanks goodbye scam caller and blocked his number.

Madness.