Better Get Dancing
Am just home from an evening of contemporary dance, which Didcot kindly invited me to. Three different compositions, from three different dance companies. The first one was shite of the highest order - an 'interpretation' of Alice in Wonderland, acted out (badly) by some plummy voiced eejit in a big dress, and boring boring boring. But the evening was saved by the last two acts, particularly one which ended with some lovely dance-deaths....
Otherwise my week has been chaotic - with half days off work, and general catching up needed. Spent Tuesday wasting my life down the hospital. Courtesy of "patient choice" (up there with educational choice in the fucking up of Britain stakes) I headed to far off Harlesden, which held the shortest waiting list for referrals. Three and half hours after my appointment was scheduled I started to see why no-one else chooses this hospital. Brand new hospital building - general organised chaos. It took them two hours to admit they'd lost my notes, and that was after being dismissed haughtily by the receptionist (why are they all like that??). When I finally got to see the doctor, all he did was ask me questions from a questionaire, before looking generally bemused. At one point he asked me my occupation. "Student" he said. "Er no ******* ***********". "Right student". "No ******* *********** or just put down administrator if it's easier". "Ahh School Co-ordinator". "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO WHAT'S THE FUCKING OBSESSION WITH SCHOOLS???? I AM NOT A STUDENT OR A TEACHER. I MAY DRESS LIKE ONE, BUT PLEASE!!!!!" (naturally I didn't actually say that being far too English about it all). He then proceeded to send me to another department to have bloods taken, which surprise surprise didn't open until 40 minutes later. From my 10.10 appointment, I dragged myself into work at 15.00, and all for a questionaire and a blood sample. And joy of joys I'm trooping back to the beloved place in two month's time, so they can do what they could easily have done then, and saved me, the country, the NHS, the time, the effort, and the money. I know it's a cliche, but working with the NHS as I do, and currently experiencing it as a patient, it really is a bottomless pit of money-wasting. And all because it is managed so very very woefully. The staff and the money are there. The management brain cells (from the top down) just aren't unfortunately. But never write off an experience completely. There was a great "blitz" spirit in the waiting room, with me, an equally bored nurse (turned patient), and a Jamaican lady, taking bets on how long we'd be stuck there, and an elderly gentleman so overwhelmed with excitement when he finally got called for his appointment two hours late, he broke into applause, and shouted at the top of his voice "God Bless America!".
Otherwise my week has been chaotic - with half days off work, and general catching up needed. Spent Tuesday wasting my life down the hospital. Courtesy of "patient choice" (up there with educational choice in the fucking up of Britain stakes) I headed to far off Harlesden, which held the shortest waiting list for referrals. Three and half hours after my appointment was scheduled I started to see why no-one else chooses this hospital. Brand new hospital building - general organised chaos. It took them two hours to admit they'd lost my notes, and that was after being dismissed haughtily by the receptionist (why are they all like that??). When I finally got to see the doctor, all he did was ask me questions from a questionaire, before looking generally bemused. At one point he asked me my occupation. "Student" he said. "Er no ******* ***********". "Right student". "No ******* *********** or just put down administrator if it's easier". "Ahh School Co-ordinator". "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO WHAT'S THE FUCKING OBSESSION WITH SCHOOLS???? I AM NOT A STUDENT OR A TEACHER. I MAY DRESS LIKE ONE, BUT PLEASE!!!!!" (naturally I didn't actually say that being far too English about it all). He then proceeded to send me to another department to have bloods taken, which surprise surprise didn't open until 40 minutes later. From my 10.10 appointment, I dragged myself into work at 15.00, and all for a questionaire and a blood sample. And joy of joys I'm trooping back to the beloved place in two month's time, so they can do what they could easily have done then, and saved me, the country, the NHS, the time, the effort, and the money. I know it's a cliche, but working with the NHS as I do, and currently experiencing it as a patient, it really is a bottomless pit of money-wasting. And all because it is managed so very very woefully. The staff and the money are there. The management brain cells (from the top down) just aren't unfortunately. But never write off an experience completely. There was a great "blitz" spirit in the waiting room, with me, an equally bored nurse (turned patient), and a Jamaican lady, taking bets on how long we'd be stuck there, and an elderly gentleman so overwhelmed with excitement when he finally got called for his appointment two hours late, he broke into applause, and shouted at the top of his voice "God Bless America!".
posted by TheMightyDing at 00:16
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