The World Will Have To Wait!
I hate this feeling when you feel all alone, like no one cares. I was ill without a stir and although I was trying to heave quietly, I thought my coughing deserved a little sympathy if not concern, but the family slept on. I crept back into the bedroom and slipped between the sheets. Hubby snored obliviously. I raised my pillows and lay listening to a distant owl and the occasional honk from the geese. My mind went into overdrive!
"Must clear out the fridge later and some of my cupboards too. Need lots of seasonal shopping, oh! and not to forget two more presents and aluminium foil." I was thinking about all the things I still needed to do and trying to remember all the things I was sure I'd forgotten. Silly things really that didn't matter! Anything to take my mind off the feeling scleroderma brings.
Thinking back to my rheumatology appointment I can't help wondering it was a huge waste of time and quite ignorant. I was made to wait three hours until there was no one left with the occasional promise -- "Not long now!" I couldn't see the problem; there was only me in the waiting area and no one appeared to be in consultation. I'd had a list in my head as long as my arm but with one eye on the clock, it was getting close to rush hour traffic and at this time of year it would be doubly worse. I had a dilemma -- do I complain about everything and then condemn myself to a range of tests that I'm sure the staff wouldn't want to do in any case so close to home time.
The man in the blood room, put on his jacket and began to close the door. He turned with disappointment to see me still sitting there unseen! He must have realised at that point that if I was still in clinic -- he couldn't go either! I'm sure he let out a sigh as he removed his jacket and went back in without a word.
I read every magazine of summer editions, read horoscopes that never meant or amounted to anything and not remotely true! I even read leaflets on other conditions, such was my boredom. Finally, although I think they realised that they'd forgotten about me, the nurse called my name. By then I couldn't have cared less, I just wanted to go home.
I was sat in a room with a couch and gown and the usual procedure. The room was warm but sitting half naked in a gown that had no fastenings I was becoming more disillusioned by the minute. I could hear laughing and medical staff making plans of merriment outside the door but still I waited!
My feet were turning black and I began to shiver. My fingers had gone into spasm -- classic symptoms to present before the doctor! If I ever saw her that was? My fingers could have dropped off with frostbite before she finally entered the room haemorrhaging apologies! The usual examination followed with the same questions but I was reluctant to be civil and answered each question with a single yes or no! I was unusually quiet and I think she sensed that I was far from impressed!
She mentioned having infusions and a five day stint in hospital, well that's just what I wanted to hear so I abruptly said no! The usual blood work followed but I was sent in with a note saying that if it couldn't be got first time, leave it! Ugh! I'd waited eight months for 10 minutes and half a day wasting my time. I'm sure they were having a party or something because before I'd got dressed the lights were off and the place deserted -- I felt like an afterthought!
I began the long journey home, through pouring rain and tailbacks of traffic. My frustration was bursting to get out but I was driving so my concentration was very much on the road. By the time I'd got home I'd lost the urgency to report my consultation to my hubby who was warming his feet by the fire. My daughter was in her bedroom slapping on make up ready for her night out and I just felt so insignificant!
I'm up and around on a damp Sunday morning. The animals are hungry and geese peck the door waiting for the morning feast. The goats are bleating and I'm still in pyjamas. I guess the world will have to wait for me this morning.