It’s many years since I’ve heard the phrase ‘fetch the forceps’ in a medical setting. More of that in a bit!

Monday appointment with Mr Nephrology on phone. He always takes his time to negotiate the minefield that is ERIC the software. He checked that Dipstick had got an appointment booked. Well then he realised it’d been cancelled. No surprises there. Then he checked the Mrs Microbiology updates. Gentamicin – I explained I needed. He said he’d check it out. Then it was kidney function bp etc he’s writing to GP to calm their nerves!

The difficulty of sourcing gentamicin which I desperately need appears to be nationwide.

UCLH also in short supply.

Tuesday I joined a research meeting based in Newcastle. This is a clinical trial which also needs gentamicin. For once I felt my rôle as PPI was valued. The bored half asleep faces suddenly jolted upright as they scrambled to check their gent stocks.

Thursday up at crack of dawn to Nottingham. The streets of which were desperately sad as I walked through the conference venue. I thought London was sad enough but here were homeless youngsters in nearly every shop door. They’d woken up when I walked back afterwards and were druggily drunkenly staggering about.

The conference headliner was ‘challenges in healthcare’. The presentations were fantastic especially one on the stress and anxiety for NHS staff in current circumstances.

Another focused on ketamine misuse. I’d heard some of this before and indeed met a youngster in hospital who’d misused. Essentially it can shrink the bladder to the point of holding only 50 / 100 ml . The pain suffering and loss of function can lead to drastic surgery. The class B drug is cheap. Available in vapes. Youngsters as young as 11 are coming in to clinics. I’m thinking of a plan to talk in schools. I’ll let you know.

My presentations on challenges facing patients was interactive, filled with so many stories I’ve chronicled here and an appeal for gentamicin. The shaking of heads demonstrated what we are beginning to realise. There is none.

Friday back in Mrs Restorative dental surgeons’ clinic. Two hour appointment. She’s nice. She’s not very smiley but she’s very skilled and kind. Yesterday’s task was to unscrew the implants. Fortunately two had actually fallen out in Nottingham. I must’ve clenched my jaw when a wild eyed dog leapt out of a doorway..

Mr Maxfax still hasn’t seen me to do numb jaw injections ct etc. He did send a email apologising because he was in South America and Venezuela and it was difficult. I have absolutely no idea what on earth he meant.

Getting implant 3 out of my mouth proved difficult. After lots of pulling and pushing the cry went up ‘fetch the forceps’ .

I laughed so hard that the bits in my mouth shot out. The nurse completely lost it—professional composure evaporated on the spot—while I spluttered into that rinse sink thingy.

Mrs Restorative, however, remained impressively unmoved. With all the warmth of a tax inspector , she said, “You think that’s funny.”

Now, it was unclear whether this was a question, a judgement, or the opening line of a disciplinary hearing. Naturally, this only made things worse. The nurse and I took an absurdly long time to regain control—two adults trying not to cry with laughter in a dental surgery., We attempted an explanation,

To be fair, I happen to know she has four sons, so her understanding of forceps is probably less funny.

That done, with forceps’, various other bits of teeth drilling blah blah later and returning to that chair on Monday. For another two hour bout.

Have a great weekend