203. Whatever next??

 I think it’s pretty amazing how this pandemic has revealed how we patients were completely misusing our NHS. We actually had the gall to expect to be seen and listened to by medical practitioners; for them to pick up on our cues and deduce far more than we knew from our questions - and then look for a solution. Maybe a treatment, maybe a cure - who knows?

It seems that we needn’t have wasted their time. All it needs is a few questions over the phone and it’s sorted: diagnosis, plan for a way forward and then you get on with it.

Maybe I’m being cynical. Maybe the way forward is via technology, Maybe people can be plucked and placed into neat little diagnoses groups and all respond to a general kind of treatment.  A couple of months ago, it was remote Occupational Therapy. I faithfully do my hand and finger exercises daily but, at this rate, I’ll be in my 90s before I can say the recommended regime has helped me. I confess, I do have the ability to open a bottle now but there’s not much else I can yet achieve. I’ll let you know tomorrow after I try out a chicken stir-fry. Can I wield a knife and dice strips of chicken breast? Will it be edible??

Meantime, today I had a telephone physiotherapy appointment. T was a lovely man, with a delightful Irish accent (always my favourite) which was quite hard to grasp till I got into his rhythm. He asked his questions and has been able to come up with an exercise programme (yes, another) and is confident my knees will recover. Unfortunately - and this is what really pisses me off - he couldn’t veer from his brief (knee, but he extended it to two knees, thank god). He knew as well as I do that my walking won’t get much better till my feet are dealt with but he wasn’t able to help with them, let alone my arm that hasn’t healed since my fall in the summer. So a bit of me was pleased that someone was helping me, another bit was frustrated that he couldn’t see me and help the whole body, another bit was full of admiration that they can work from a distance (it must be hard for them) but really I felt quite tearful, that I may never get a holistic look at what’s wrong, just departmental decisions that aren’t co-ordinated. 

Of course, I may have felt tearful as I resorted to buying a “lazy bike’, listed in Amazon as mobility for the elderly. That’s it. My fate is sealed.

Next, a walking frame!

Today it was announced we move into Tier 3 on Monday. Why not today? The figures are soaring and we should have moved two weeks ago. I know I’m being naive but I don’t see how the local authorities (I’ve given up on the government) could drag their feet to protect business before lives. I understand the dire situation for small businesses and for unemployment but surely life comes first.

I already knew the local hospitals were filled to capacity and are cancelling most surgery (you were so lucky with the timing, Maureen) and Chapel Allerton hospital, where I’m due to meet a rheumatologist next week, has closed all its surgical departments. So my big question is, will Chapel Allerton continue outpatient clinics? It’s not an emergency but I’ve waited so long for this and I’m never going to get to see a neurologist am I?? This is essential in understanding what is wrong and which bits can be repaired.

I’m so tired of being a walking, talking side effect. I want to be me again. 

Ok, no more pity-partying, I hope so anyway.