The unknown is always a bit nerve wracking, whether it’s a good thing or a bad one.
I finally found someone to accompany me to my cardiac appointment; it’s not an ideal situation, a bit unknown of itself really, but we’ll see in that regard.
I won’t find out exactly what’s wrong with me tomorrow, but I do know, that it’s not just my heart that’s on its way out. I suppose I’ll have to wait a little longer to find out to what extent the damage is.
It’s been coming on for 20 years now. That’s how long you seem to have to wait for a problem recognised. For example, I’ve terrible problems with my knee cartilages, and whereas my daughter’s partner had that resolved in 12 weeks, despite suffering for many years, I was sent a psychology appointment! This is how people with no means, ‘useless eaters’ are generally treated. By the way, if you do need an urgent psychology appointment, I suggest you say that you’re tired out, and cry a bit, and mention your knees: you won’t be waiting a year for an appointment!!
All these years, and the problem now it seems, is in an area of the body that they’ve never ONCE looked at. Ironically, the woman who is helping me tomorrow by accompanying me, only hinted at a problem, and my surgery had her wearing a monitor for 24 hours; thankfully there was no problem, but they checked my heart for less than 3 minutes in all.
I’ve waited from the beginning of July, to nearly the beginning of October, for tests that could have been carried out straight away when I had my first emergency cardiac appointment, but silly me, I cried again during the appointment, and though I told them I’d had 25 attacks in the space of days, and no proper sleep for 10 days due to it, they humoured me, and said they’d see me in 4-6 months time!
I was a ‘text book’ subject. I didn’t even look up my symptoms until I’d been to see the first G.P. – though not my personal G.P. It took 2 more weeks to see my own G.P., then she sent me for that emergency appointment, and they did nothing. In the end, weeks later, she had to prescribe what the hospital should have: I could have died, many times over; still could. The meds worked for 3 weeks, and now I’m back to attacks every hour in the night; agonising attacks.
I do appreciate the NHS, don’t get me wrong. In fact, my friend’s experience recently of ‘healthcare’ abroad was horrific. That said, I’ve been maltreated for many years, such that I was asked to write a submission to NICE over the matter.
Ah well, I won’t know the moro what the problem is, but hopefully soon. I’ve been so ill I’ve wanted to just die to be honest. I love life, and I’ve suffered greatly and still loved life, until now.
I really shouldn’t have said this in a blog, but what the heck, hardly anyone reads them anyway. We’re all just locked into our private hell, digital notepad to hand, tossed into the turbulent sea of others just like us, whilst sitting by our own fireside alone.
I love life nevertheless. I’m hoping that I can make it another 4 weeks. My first grandchild is due, and it is such a blessing. Due to my daughter’s ongoing cervical cancer, she never expected to conceive, so it’s a miracle. I’m hoping to make to that; God willing.