You know, someone has just told me I have made loads of spelling mistakes, for this I am very sorry, as nothing gets on my nerves more than bad spelling!...Also, I forgot to mention before something that was taught to me during my training, how to navigate myself around a keypad, so if I am paying for shopping that is over the limit that I can 'tap' for, I was taught that if you feel the number 5 on any keypad, even on a computer, anywhere that numbers need putting in, there will be a raised line or a small raised spot, if I know where 5 is I can manage to put my pin in easily. Cool eh? AND the bumps on pavements...the long oval ones tell me there is a bus stop there, and the round ones tell me I that this is a good place to cross the road. At traffic light crossings, if the lights don't beep, there is a little knob under the box which has the button on which you press to get the lights changed, when its good to cross the little knob swivels, which is also very cool!
Anyway, back to Moorfields I go, this time I am armed with my Mum, my stick, mine and Mums cheque books and credit cards. I am trying, as usual to act calm but I have a knot in my stomach as large as a beach ball. The 'out patents' care is just as professional and organised as A&E. RTU is underground, it is incredibly clean, there are no windows to gaze out of. This is all new to me so again, I am taking in every single thing, but because I don't know what happening my brain won't absorb everything , and I keep checking that Mum knows where we are. As before, we are moved from room to room, this makes you feel like something is happening, instead of just sitting looking at strangers, first you check in, good, I am on todays list!! next you go to a different area to have your eyesight checked, usual reaction from the nurse ...OMG how DOOOO you manage!.....Errrr just get on with it really :).........your are so young....well, I'm 38...that's nearly 40!!! Sight test complete, nurse puts in dilating fluid into both eyes and anaesthetic and antibiotic into my right eye. Just pop along the corridor and wait on the blue, yes I said blue chairs. Mum jumps up as I come out, and we walk around to 'THE CORRIDOR OF DOOM'. As I look down this long corridor there must have been 40 blue chairs, every single one of them occupied by a person, not one of those persons was under 70 years old, a gentleman gets up and offers Mum his chair, she promptly shoves me onto it...every single one of those OAP's turns and glares at me, luckily the dilation is starting to work, but I can hear the mumbling, then I hear a different noise, a rumbling, and foot steps, what's this...all the old peeps start fidgeting and getting out their purses, bloody hell, it a TEA trolley, there was a lot of commotion and fussing, for some reason this gives me the giggles, thinking back it was probably nerves, mixed with the dismay of being grouped with OAP's, not that there is anything wrong with OAPs, but in my ignorance just assumed there would be people my age waiting for treatment. As time ticked on we were all called one by one for blood pressure and dilation check, when my name was called, and I got up instead of Mum, it caused a ripple of chatter all the way down the line, I had to be escorted in and out by a nurse as by then all I could see was the white fuzz. Early afternoon and we were down to the last dozen seats, and there was a small group of us sitting there, an old man broke wind, his wife was horrified, but Mum and I are giggling away, this broke the ice and the others started to talk to me..."Are you here for an injection dear?"..yes..."How awful"..they then proceeded to share with me every single horror story they had known about the injections, they managed to paint such a gruesome picture that, I began to shake, something strange happened to my hands, the palms were sweating, I felt cold and my heart was sending my blood pressure through the roof. As long as I live I will never forget that feeling of fear when my name was called, Mum squeezing my hand as I got up and all the oldies singing "good luck", like I was off to play a bloody game of bingo, Dr Andrews was in his little office, looked at me, and told me if I didn't calm down he wouldn't be injecting me, and I didn't, so he didn't. He left me in the room and went and sorted the next patent, a nurse came in and did the whole distraction thing and I shared some of the horror stories...."once the needle snapped in my eye".... "they had to tie me to the bed".....you know when you need to run, get away. there was no way I was staying. The nurse was lovely she got me a glass of water and talked me through the procedure, When the doctor came back he started saying that I was unable to have the same drug as everyone else, I needed something called Avastin, which they aren't allowed to keep at the clinic, my heart and stomach lifted. ha, I am going home, no injection for me! The Dr, taps me on the knee and tells me to sit out in the waiting area, and he, and the nurse will nip up and get my drug administered and signed for, balls!!!
In all the fuss, I had forgotten that Mum had been sat out in the waiting area with the evil oldies telling her dreadful things, as soon as she sees me she grabs her handbag, I feel the judging eyes and the mocking, "what a baby, she didn't have it done", the Nurse explains what's happening, and Mum sits back down, 15 long, long minutes later, I am back in the little office, where I am told, the hospital will be paying for my injections and here comes the first one......
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