Showing posts with label appointments. Show all posts
Showing posts with label appointments. Show all posts

Thursday, 16 January 2025

A benign review of a malignant past

The shifting feasts of consulting

This was my third outing of the week after church on Sunday and the office on Tuesday. I had a rescheduled appointment from December that I attended yesterday. It was my usual biannual checkup, which has shifted from the April/October cycle to a January/July cycle in three years.

Once I realised, I would not be able to attend the early December appointment because I would be out of the country, I called to postpone the appointment and reschedule it to mid-January. I ensure I never miss my hospital appointments or consultations as it deprives others of time and audience with scarce medical personnel.

A miscommunication between us some 18 months ago meant I never received my expected scheduling for May, and we fell into a June/December cycle that only happened once. Besides rescheduling, I was promptly given a prescription to make up for the additional time.

Let’s keep to what we discussed

For this consultation, I had a few issues to discuss, the main one being the unfortunate mismanagement of information that I should not have received until I had met the consultant involved in that area of investigation and diagnosis. The computerisation of personal medical records meant that a certain diagnosis ended up in my clinic notes that the person I met should have redacted before forwarding to my doctor and I.

Blog - The note that crept in

The sinking feeling of reading a diagnosis of adenocarcinoma of prostate over a week before my scheduled appointment with the consultant urologist was as earth-shattering as it was a humbling reminder of one’s mortality. When I remonstrated with the doctor, he offered to redact the diagnosis, but what good was bolting the doors after the horses had bolted?

Meeting with the chief consultant of the team that had assumed my care for over a decade and she for about 8 years, she immediately understood the issue.

She said she would raise an incident with the multidisciplinary teams to ensure that they are aware of what information gets passed to the patient; that it is centred on their particular consultations; and that the more interested patients can assess seemingly hidden interdepartmental communications to read the chatter pertaining to them.

A malignant test of the benign

For me, what I learnt was the difference between the definition of malignant to the layperson and the medical establishment. When I read malignant adenocarcinoma of the prostate in interdepartmental communications, I read it as a qualifier of the type of cancer, something rampaging and very likely to cause death.

To the medical eye, malignant always means cancer regardless of stage or metastasis. The absence of cancer in the presence of a growth or tumour will be considered benign. [Medical News Today: What are the different types of tumour?]

My consultant patiently explained the terms fully to enhance my understanding. Other issues in my notes were from the perspective of the person I saw. Any similarities would suggest a lazy engagement, as situations and circumstances do change between visits.

All good and nice

We discussed the readings of my blood tests, and the need for new assays, though this time without a urine sample and at the end of my allotted time with a medical student present, I was handed on to the phlebotomist who had no problem drawing three vials of blood before I was sent on my way to collect my renewed prescription and I made my way home.

In all, the consultation was pleasant, and the typical readings were within normal range, it is likely I have lost a centimetre in height, and the physiotherapy to address issues in my spine will not commence until all the other medical issues are resolved.

Monday, 30 September 2024

Photons on the Prostate - VII

Whether the weather

My radiotherapy session which was planned for much later when my scheduling sheet was filled last Monday had been brought forward three hours on my Thursday visit.

This did not make it any more convenient because Manchester was under the generous sprinkling of torrential rain and rain in the UK is so alien to us, traffic literally stops and puddles become lakes with cars aquaplaning like speedboats. Well, drop the speed part, my Uber had to swerve off the road for a filling of petrol.

You may wonder why I have resorted to getting myself to and from the hospital by bus or Uber when I had the pleasure of friends chauffeuring me there for the full week of the one before the last. I appreciate everyone wants to help, we are all full of amazingly good intentions that we express with urgency and a seeming willingness to do as we ask others to make that demand on us.

Yet, we are rather busy people and much as we would bend over backwards to help, we do have other things to do that are important, urgent, ordered, scheduled, or impromptu. An apology reaches our lips suffused with concerning equanimity as we deliver disappointment with the expectation that alternatives are readily available. The truth; is there are no alternatives, and people who have relied on us are being let down gently, kindly, and sadly.

Just do your thing

It becomes a logistical nightmare for the person being helped between knowing an arrangement is firm to scurrying to make your appointment because of unforeseen circumstances, and a situation totally out of your control because of the reliance on others. You feel worse for feeling bad for their feeling sad that they cannot help. The same people who insisted they would drop everything and blue-light you to the hospital rather than see you struggle on a bus or pay a king’s ransom for a taxicab.

It's just better to make your own arrangements and anything that comes in to alleviate the situation rather than encumber it is a bonus. Decline the offers promptly rather than be beholden and reliant on the accompanying stress that comes with things not going to plan. It is hard enough doing things on your own, but you know you are setting the agenda and doing things your way.

Seeing our future in one

On arrival at the hospital, I was assigned another suite, the fifth I have attended in 13 visits. I first sat in front of a family of four, and then I needed a little powdering of my nose in the ladies’ room. It’s got a mirror, and I can adjust my day cravat, I forgot my lipstick. When I returned, my original seat was occupied, so I chose a seat at the back.

My appointment time came, but there was going to be a longer wait, two other people were called in, and then out of the family of four, the older man stood up, those accompanying him were his wife, his daughter and his son. His adult son called him and gave him a big hug and he walked in and gave the staff a box of chocolates, it was his last radiotherapy session.

What a triumph over adversity as they flung wide the double doors for him to walk out to the camera phones held up by his family, it calls for a celebration. He wished the rest of the waiting room good luck as I urged him to go and ring that bell for victory. I did not hear the bell as was called into the suite.

Number thirteen done

We had a student who asked if it was okay to be present, I obliged without any fuss, we need students as much as we need professionals showing them the practicalities of what is involved, and she attends my alma mater university. One of the transparent derma patches needed changing to preserve the tattoo marking, a job I have always left to the personnel because they include markings before taping.

I took the bus back into the town centre because I needed to top up my supply of cranberry juice which eased that stinging urethra issue. Another one of those situations where you only get to tap on good intentions once before it becomes a chore for them.

Yet, people never fully understand why for times like this and during recuperation, having time with your partner and them being available to help is always a labour of love done with every desire to see you well and a joy to them that they can be doing something effective, effectual, and productive. Until you know, you never really know.

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - VIII

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - VI

Blog - Men's things

Saturday, 21 September 2024

Photons on the Prostate - V

Tolerance helps through

My radiotherapy session yesterday was the latest in time for all visits to The Christie Hospital at 18h15, it represented the longest time between the weekday treatments as there are no weekend sessions. I was first in on Thursday morning at 08h00, the receptionists and staff had not arrived when I got to the hospital for my appointment.

With 7 done, we are over a third of the way through it and I have a better understanding of what to expect. I am tolerating radiotherapy well, but fatigue is a downer, much as I want to be active the body is sending signals I cannot ignore, and tiredness gets respite with sleep at irregular times leading to nocturnal insomnia where you wake up in the middle of the night and even though you are tired, you cannot sleep.

The side effect is more related to fatigue than insomnia being a documented side effect of radiotherapy when it applies to the prostate. It royally screws up the day that you need to become flexible about how you are productive.

Take each day

I would do whatever I can when my energy levels are up, regardless of the time of the day, and take the rest as needed when the fatigue sets in.

The waiting rooms during the evening sessions are quite busy and this time, as I was waiting to be called into my usual suite, I was reassigned to another suite where I was immediately called in for my radiotherapy treatment.

One other thing I have noticed is my ambulatory performance is quite low compared to my usual walking speed, it reminds me of the months of recuperation after chemotherapy in 2010, I just took my time putting one foot in front of the other knowing I would eventually get to my destination. The distance to the hospital on my good walking days I could do in 60 to 70 minutes. It is not something I have contemplated currently.

The smart thing now is prioritising the responsiveness to treatment over other situations and variables, and making the best of the weekend breaks on the treatment plan.

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - VI

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - IV

Blog - Men's things

Wednesday, 18 September 2024

Photons on the Prostate - IV

Unhealthy and unwealthy

Visiting the hospital, I wondered if we are not a sick nation even an unhealthy one, too, contributing by choice and inaction to whatever ails us.

I suggested appointments were indicative and that's what I have experienced for my appointments this week. A late call running an hour behind schedule, and then two calls that had me treated before the scheduled time.

How it really works

My fascination with radiotherapy gained pleasure when I found a YouTube video demonstrating how the linear accelerator works. My respect for the engineering behind the linac just left me in glee.

Linear Accelerators (LINAC) | Biomedical Engineers TV

Not me being a nerd, in the nerdish pursuit of understanding the science of radiotherapy. I should not bore you with much apart from something I witnessed twice in five minutes.

At the main waiting area of the radiotherapy department, there is a clanger bell, you are asked to ring it thrice at the end of your treatment course.

Ring my bell

I have been longing for when I could ring that bell, and I am only 20% into my treatment regime. I heard the bell ring for the first time in all my visits, and everyone heartily clapped.

It was a bell of hope and expectation to us, the sound of enduring survival of the human spirit, and the herald of the beginning of the rest of the ringers' lives, free of cancer and thriving after cancer.

The gruelling treatment would eventually end and the opportunity to go out and live in the extravagant celebration of life beckons.

Why we were there

Then I heard my name; I was called into the suite, set up on the automatic gurney and ready for my fifth radiotherapy session.

I knew exactly what was happening, probably a horror tease of science fiction getting irradiated on the prostate as Chaka Khan belted out "I'm every woman," on the radio. I checked at the end, and I'm very much still a man.

Thinking about it, I have never asked for a sick note in a working life of 36 years, I might need to get one now, to fulfil all righteousness. It is at 25% now, each session adds 5% to the tally.

Tomorrow, we are doing the morning shift barely after the sun rises, much help is provided, and all support is appreciated. Shalom!

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - V

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - III

Blog - Men's things

Tuesday, 17 September 2024

Photons on the Prostate - III

He’s just independent

Three things greeted my concern after a rather uncomfortable weekend, the quick onset of fatigue, sudden events of feverish bouts, the ongoing lack of appetite, and the obvious loss of my natural voice that seemed to suggest that I had a cold or sore throat, however, it was one sign of labouring through the fatigue.

If I had not had my ear bent enough through the weekend by lover, friend, colleague, and neighbour about my reticence to ask for help. I am generally independent; they say I am stubborn. Some condemned the idea that I was boarding public transportation to and from the hospital.

Rather than fight these battles, I relented and by that ceded control with the unfamiliarity that a control freak might find impossible, I am not a control freak, I just like things to be ordered as a creature of punctuality and habit.

From drive to driven

My neighbour dropped things she needed to do this afternoon to drive me to the hospital and stay the whole time before bringing me back home for tea at hers. Bless her.

My older friendly steward colleague from church gave me a ride back home from church on Sunday, putting one foot in front of another to get to church had totally exhausted me. I sat through most of the service on a day I would normally have been a steward. Everyone was considerate, kind, empathetic and reassuring, it helped.

Arriving at the hospital with just about 5 minutes to spare before my scheduled appointment, it is unimaginable how heavy the traffic was on the main or back roads, it wasn’t 4:00 PM and we were in essentially rush-hour traffic, a 21-minute drive easily extending into more than 40 minutes.

Appointments are just indicators

I booked into my suite, but there was a wait, an emergency radiotherapy session for someone bedridden and then another who was having his first session attending with his wife and soon I went to collect my neighbour from the main waiting room to the suite waiting area. It soon filled up with patients of all descriptions.

Time ticked away and it was literally an hour after my scheduled appointment that I was called with the first requirement being, please visit the toilet and do whatever you can. It was a team of men operating the suite as I regaled them with the history of Elekta, I guess even when I try not to be, I end up being a nerd, all the same.

Zap and dap

Again, to spare my blushes as I pulled down my trousers to reveal tattoos and crown jewels, they had a covering ready to which I retorted, that they had seen all sorts, I was not in the least bothered. They worked like a flight crew in setting me up in the bed, reciting and confirming measurements and settings before we had the first whirl of the linear accelerator and then I was left for the machine to do its deed.

They then referred me to a reviewing nurse who took me into an office, it was soon that I realised why her voice was a bit different, she had a voice box, obviously someone who had had radical surgery on her throat. She was efficient as she meticulously recorded all the side effects and symptoms, she gave the advice to take in more fluids and try to defeat the issue of not eating enough.

And so we go

My temperature and blood pressure were taken and there is the possibility after further review that they might do some blood tests. I still have not found out the updated PSA and testosterone results of over two weeks ago. I wonder where they are held as they have not communicated to my doctor.

That’s three done, my steward colleague from the church is picking me up tomorrow morning for my next appointment. It might be later in the week before I have a schedule that favours a late appointment. Meanwhile, there is a bit more timbre in my voice, it is probably something between a shock to the system and an adjustment to the treatment.

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - IV

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - II

Blog - Men's things

Saturday, 14 September 2024

Photons on the Prostate - II

Buses and stresses

As I prepared for my rescheduled second course of radiotherapy, as it was later in the day I could get other things done. I had reckoned I should schedule an hour before the appointment for preparation and travel to get to my appointment on time, which might need a review.

On a bus journey that is normally 29 minutes, I alighted from the bus 50 minutes after I boarded it, rush hour traffic amongst other issues. I hate getting so worked up going to the hospital, even the thought of arriving late affects my blood pressure, thankfully, that is not being measured for radiotherapy.

Suited for the suite

On arrival, I was passed from one reception to another, the one that manages the suite where radiotherapy is delivered. They give you another day’s appointment, each visit so that you have 5 in hand.

The radiographer came out to ask if I had done the micro-enema, which I had done at home as the Shit-on-Demand thing was just not working with me. However, to fulfil all righteousness, I went to the toilet and managed to empty my bladder.

When I was called into the suite, the standard formalities of confirming who I am ensued, these were the same radiographers I had seen the day before, and the music playing was Otis Redding’s Sitting on the dock of the bay, as I pulled down my trousers and lay on the hard bed to be positioned for alignment with the green laser beams.

Zap and dap

A few adjustments later, they left me in the room to remotely set off the imaging before targeting the photon beam. In the waiting room, I saw two commemorations of donors of equipment to the radiotherapy department. The kit used to deliver radiotherapy was the Elekta Synergy linear accelerator, first launched in 2002. [Elekta: Important Turns in the history of the company 1994-2005][Radiology Oncology Systems: Elekta Linear Accelerators* Comparison Chart]

It does everything you need it to do and from a table of comparisons, it is a workhorse with very few cons. Within 15 minutes, the deed was done, and I was dressing up to return home.

I had a takeaway last night, but I am still struggling with my appetite for food, I am not fatigued but feel lethargic, and I might need some help around the house. I hope tomorrow, I have the strength to steward at the Cathedral, that’s 2 down and 18 to go. Monday for the next, I might steal a sip of sparkling water before the end of today.

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - III

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - I

Blog - Men's things

Wednesday, 19 June 2024

Men's things - X

Registers of choice and fate

Registers are interesting repositories of information indicating where you might belong, in a class, with a group, by choice or automatically. Your curiosity about registers is to determine what is stored about you and could correct incorrect or changed information.

It starts with birth registrations that include your full name, the names and occupations of your parents, when and where you were born, and the day the entry was placed in the register.

With life, you will probably have to register a birth, a marriage, and a death, the first and last is usually done by someone else. In school, you might end up on a register with a roll call to determine who is present or absent. As an adult where any semblance of a democracy exists, we might say a voters’ register.

Another register that matters to me is predicated on religious faith; being in the Lamb’s Book of Life having accepted Jesus Christ as my lord and Saviour. “Nothing evil will be allowed to enter, nor anyone who practices shameful idolatry and dishonesty—but only those whose names are written in the Lamb’s Book of Life.” (NLT) [BibleHub: Revelation 21:27]

Not this register at any time

In my meeting last week, it was said in passing and I heard the nurse right; it was one register to which I would never have wanted my name appended, and my utmost desire is to be taken off that register with the testimony of an all-clear having had a prior proof of a diagnosis.

Yes, there is a National Cancer Registration and Analysis Service and with a cancer diagnosis, the person is automatically registered, to track how cancer is managed nationally. You can seek with apparent difficulty to have your information removed by opting out. [CRUK: What is cancer registration?]

While I would rather not answer present if my name is called out of this register, I appreciate that when it comes to cancer treatment, the book of knowledge that is brought to bear on any new diagnosis comes from the long trail of studies, treatments, observations, and the lives of those who succumbed to the disease and the many who survived too.

Registered for better outcomes

That is why when in a consulting room, I welcome students to participate in the conversation. I engage them fully and try to paint a picture of how some of the wonders of progressive developments in medicine, have helped deal with disease that once was a life sentence but is manageable for some, curable for others, or controllable for many.

Sometimes, the prospects and options for dealing with men’s things when biopsies return positive results can be daunting. My decision is not to dwell on this but to encourage myself with messages about healing, living, wellness, and strength.

What I do with the knowledge of a cancer diagnosis is everything, and what I intend to have, is a better story than what any prognosis suggests. The first step to this is checking on your men’s things, going for the requisite tests, attending all appointments to discuss any issues and giving yourself the early fighting chance of knowing you have the choice of a possible cure.

Blog - Men's things

Blog - Men's things - II

Blog - Men's things - III

Blog - Men's things - IV

Blog - Men's things - V

Blog - Men's things - VI

Blog - Men's things - VII

Blog - Men's things - VIII

Blog - Men's things - IX

Thursday, 13 June 2024

Men's things - IX

It is serious stuff

My decision to share my experience of what men face with prostate cancer is one I do not treat with any levity. You will read humour and maybe laugh at my expression; it does not take away from the seriousness of what a diagnosis of adenocarcinoma of the prostate might present.

Cancer is part of the human experience, it does not have to define your outlook as the end of the road of your existence, the greatest battle you will have is in your mind rather than in the prospects, the treatment, your recovery, and much else. If you believe at the receipt of such news that you will die, you quite likely would, if you choose that you will live, you have everything to live for.

Take the fine part

I speak as someone who 15 years ago received a cancer diagnosis with the prospect in the words of my consultant who had the weight of medical expertise on his side of his prognosis. He said, “We can treat this, but it depends on how your body can take the treatment, if you can tolerate it, you’ll be fine, otherwise, you probably have 5 weeks.”

I took the fine part and left the weeks part in the dust of history, and that has become my testimony of living and living well.

All with a friend

For my appointment to get the results of the transperineal prostate biopsy that was taken a month ago, I already had a good idea of the situation, the rest was to understand what they had observed towards the conclusions they would draw which would give me a handle on what I need to address.

We boarded the Uber taxicab, my friend had come as support because I was invited to bring someone to accompany me, when he called me to confirm, I was almost with the mind to tell him not to be too bothered, but he came over and I am glad for his support.

The driver asked where we were going and I said the Peter Mount Building, and it is ironic that a building where men are checked for men’s things, where manliness, masculinity, and patriarchy meet the humbling of disease has mount in the name. Surely, someone is having a joke at our expense.

Balls, nuts, very salty

He knew where the building was at as I told him, I had been there before because someone had a staplegun to my goolies, a month before. I guess I used goolies as a collective for everything pertaining to men’s things in that area. He asked if I still had them, I do, as my friend opined about how the man rumoured to only have one brought the world to ruin in World War II.

The driver half took the hint that he needed to check his men’s things and we all agreed that we do not talk freely enough about men’s things to have the prospect of early diagnoses if anything is awry. He said he was going to spend the rest of the day thinking of Akin’s nuts, I suggested he should try them salty. We all laughed until our sides ached. I was dressed as if I was going to a party.

Cut to the chase

Arriving quite early, the waiting room was busy, I took a seat and occupied myself with studying a map of the west of Manchester, I even found an error on the map. Soon, I was called into a consulting room where I showed the consultant that I was already aware, for over a week, of the information he was about to share, and that he should cut to the chase.

Blog - The note that crept in

Without dwelling on the point, we discussed what the future might be, from a medical perspective, and I thought of a different future blessed by what my belief grants me. Even as I positively attended to the information, I felt a little tremor in my hands, partly out of shock that you will naturally expect and at the same time, you must overwhelm the circumstances with a greater sense of personal and Godly hope.

Leaflets, pamphlets, and booklets later, we departed for a hearty brunch. Please, have a brief look and feel at your men’s things, the earlier you know, the better your prospects. I will continue to write about this. It is well with my soul and yours.

Blog - Men's things

Blog - Men's things - II

Blog - Men's things - III

Blog - Men's things - IV

Blog - Men's things - V

Blog - Men's things - VI

Blog - Men's things - VII

Blog - Men's things - VIII

Wednesday, 5 June 2024

Men's things - VIII

Interpreting bloods and dreams

In preparation for my biannual consultation today, I printed out sheaves of information for which in the analysis I would hope to have satisfactory, convincing, and comforting medical assessments of the situation. Like the kings of old, their dreams then and our blood results today, need interpretation. They hold some keys to the future.

The bloods have been telling wild stories of rage and range that has led me into many lairs of the medical establishment for observation, through inspections, radiography, biopsies, and another set of appointments and scheduled tests. It is tough if a king cannot remember what they dreamt, just as it is difficult if you cannot review your blood and other results to ask pertinent questions.

Silence is never an option

Having a long-term health condition you have effectively managed for about 15 years gives you some experience handling how doctors relay or disseminate information. You have to read the obvious and then read between the lines. In the UK, they are not as direct and forthcoming as our Dutch neighbours, they are reserved though a certain cohort is abrupt with a patrimonial bedside manner.

The Dutch are interventionists, they do not wait and see how things develop, they go after the issue with alacrity and immediacy. I recall my Dutch doctor saying, “This looks serious, I have to refer you.” She was already on the phone making appointments and speaking with urgency, I could be in no doubt about the seriousness of the situation. When I saw the professor, a few days later, he said, “We have a bed for you upstairs.” That was the beginning of an 18-night stay in the hospital in September 2009.

That compared to how three different health institutions vacillated for almost 3 years on a co-morbidity that could be treated and then I was put on new therapeutic drugs, but this was after I had a conversation along the lines of, “I am well aware of my mortality, what are you going to do about this co-morbidity?”

We have to talk about it

Regardless of who you are seeing, it is evident you must have a good understanding and grasp of your situation and give full voice to your concerns unrelentingly until you get satisfactory answers leading to hopefully, your desired outcomes.

Next week, I will be attending a follow-up consultation to discuss the results of the transperineal prostate biopsy I had just over 3 weeks ago. What has been scheduled has left me almost falling off my seat. There is a multidisciplinary team (MDT) with the qualifications of pelvic and urology along with the elephant in the room, who have set something up for the day after with no detail and this has an expiry of a year hence. As it comes under the topic of upcoming tests and procedures, I am left wondering, is this adopting a wait-and-see approach, or there is really nothing to see, and we are just in close monitoring?

You can bet I have many questions for all my follow-up consultations, I am not a tough customer, just one who knows what everyone should know for themselves. “It is my body first before it is your Guinea pig.” Selah!

Blog - Men's things

Blog - Men's things - II

Blog - Men's things - III

Blog - Men's things - IV

Blog - Men's things - V

Blog - Men's things - VI

Blog - Men's things - VII

NB: I use bloods to mean blood tests.

Friday, 31 May 2024

Men's things - VII

Now I know the time

Only yesterday, I was writing about waiting for the next appointment to discuss the results of the adult histopathology labs ordered on my last visit after the transperineal prostate biopsy which leaves little room for comfort at the thought of it.

This morning, a new appointment arrived in my mailbox with a link to the hospital trust portal where you can review what is expected of you on your next visit.

It sheds no further detail apart from the name of the consultant I might be seeing and the option to bring a friend or relative along. The reliability of ‘friend’, the one who was to accompany me for the biopsy is questionable and no fault of his beyond the apparently recondite lack of facility.

Needing someone to lean on

I might have to inform my neighbour as she upbraided me sternly for not letting her know I was off to the hospital for a quite involved procedure.

Strangely, in preparation for the other visit, I was informed of the one-stop-shop service, I cannot recall the suggestion to bring someone along, it was loaded with possibilities without indicating any actualities, which makes it seem ominous that I might need a shoulder to lean on.

Obviously, I would be asked to produce a urine sample on demand or under duress before I see the consultant who trained in Manchester and holds several supervisory positions in clinical, educational, and training institutions. In my earlier feedback, I remonstrated about not being given the full details that informed the decision to do a biopsy until I asked questions and asked to see the MRI scans.

In my own time, at my own pace

I have resolved, whatever the outcome, I will take my time to decide on the next steps. For what it is worth, no one would want to lose the efficacy and function of the prostate gland and on one of those sessions where I heard a talk on prostate health, one of the speakers did say there is expertise to ensure it is not totally excised that you become a eunuch blessed with a protuberance.

That thought alone, I should banish from my mind. I already have my delayed biannual checkup scheduled for June and a week later, this one. Better to just think of the summer of love and the beauty of the flowers in fields and meadows. What bliss, what bliss indeed.

Blog - Men's things

Blog - Men's things - II

Blog - Men's things - III

Blog - Men's things - IV

Blog - Men's things - V

Blog - Men's things - VI

Saturday, 18 September 2021

We're jabbing in the name of flu

We’re jabbing

On Wednesday afternoon I received a text message on my phone from the NHS on behalf of my GP’s surgery or maybe the other way round, it does not matter, I was being invited to the flu clinic on Saturday with a link attached to a registration website.

To those of us without Internet access, we were advised to key back a response of NOWEB, though I could not find any instruction for those without a phone. They might have received a letter instead.

In any case, I had 4 different online options to book my appointment, the NHS app, the Patient Access website, Evergreen Life (I have no idea who they are, but if they are selling the elixir of youth, that is worth an investigation), and myGP app. You could text a message or call a phone number after noon on a weekday.

What a surprise

I chose the NHS app and successfully booked an appointment for 9:03 AM, I had never seen so many appointment slots by the minute like I did on the calendar of appointments, the top, half, and quarters to and past the hour had been taken that the nearest I had to any of the cardinal clock points was 3 minutes past.

For a Saturday morning that requires a lie-in at the best of times, that was a tad early, but not by what I observed when I got to the surgery, a queue, a long queue about 10 deep and getting longer by the minute. Now, that is a first in my years of being a patient on this General Practitioner’s register.

Registration was prompt and conveyor belt-like, and soon a doctor, a doctor, yes, a doctor, for I have never met a doctor at my local surgery, nurses, many, receptionists indeed, but doctors were rarer than gold dust. My medical agenda is managed by hospital consultants for long-term care who instruct or inform my doctors of what other NHS services should be engaged.

The doctor was administering the flu jab when he asked if I wanted it in my left or right arm, I showed him my leg to which he quipped, interesting and rather unorthodox. I took the jab in my left arm and after a dab with cotton wool, I put my jacket on and made to leave.

I doggone got jabbed

Before stepping out of the surgery, I was given a leaflet, much like being given the menu after your meal. The flu jab is Flucelvax tetra, the tetra providing protection from 4 strains of influenza that the medical establishment thinks might be of concern in this flu season. Wisconsin, Washington, Cambodia, Tasmania, Darwin, Phuket, and Singapore are the well-travelled influenza viruses on the prowl for the vulnerable.

Meanwhile, the only side effect is the slight pain at the injection site, I returned home to rest, so the tiredness might have been catered for. The vaccine was prepared in cell cultures. Madin-Darby Canine Kidney cells to be exact and a cocker spaniel to boot. If we end up barking mad and I have not read the detail, I might just be another man’s best friend. I have been immunised.

Sunday, 22 May 2016

On the milestones of health checks

A schedule ahead
The highlights of my year or rather the more obvious plans scheduled far ahead in each year for over six years now has been my appointments with consultants.
People with vast medical expertise who I face on many occasions to discuss the state of my health, what discoveries have been found, what diagnosis has been arrived at, what the prognosis is, what prophylactic or therapeutic course of treatment is available and eventually what decision has been made in the end.
The cosy conversation
Whilst it is literally impossible to affect the bedside manner of certain dour and boring doctors, and I have met a few, in the main, I have met quite outgoing, understanding, engaging and interesting consultants. This makes for a better environment to discuss issues and many times things in a broader context of life, livelihood, and living.
I get on well with consultants who despite their status, achievement and authority have a listening ear, a sympathetic mien, and a completely unprejudiced view, regardless of what the subject becomes in our conversation.
Many faces seen
It is a bit disconcerting that in England, I have rarely had the pleasure of meeting with consultants that have been assigned to me at the times I have booked my appointments, which is quite different from meeting consultants in The Netherlands or in Wales. Maybe a better scheduling system is required, however, I am told that is how the department is able to attend to a wider number of patients.
On Thursday, I was in hospital and again, I saw another consultant, I always do my research about consultants, see what they qualified in, what their research projects were, review academic, research and professional papers they have written and what conferences they’ve contributed to.
Be read up
At one point the consultant had to accede that I had done considerably more research on her, her background and on some of her personal life than she had on me with the little time she had to glean through my medical file. It has become common practice to elicit my medical history from me than wade through physical or computer files, I am comfortable with that.
In my view, it is incumbent on a patient to be versed with their condition so as to be able to give knowledgeable information and most importantly, you can ask better follow-up questions in relation to how the discussion develops. This helps ensure that any decision made with regards to medical expectations and outcomes takes into consideration your concerns, your anxieties and also your expectations too.
A glad finishing
Beyond the medical, we talked about professions, hobbies, travel and the general things before I was booked for some tests that included a visit to the phlebotomist and two future appointments to review my situation.
I do look forward to these hospital visits and the more prepared I am for the consultation, the better I feel afterwards. I always take notes and in particular the key indicators that come from the blood tests, which gives me a general indication of what my health condition is and so far, I am doing very well.
It is easier to take an Uber cab ride to the hospital than getting one back and I have on occasion ended up getting on a bus going in the completely wrong direction as I did on Thursday. It didn’t bother me, I just got back on the bus at the terminus and rode back until it got me to the ethnic minority superstore where I stocked up on ingredients for my local cuisine before getting back on the bus on the same route that got me back to my street.


Wednesday, 30 October 2013

The UK: Caressed by the dead hand of government protocols

Fill the will
Forms are what I encountered this afternoon, a meeting with officialdom that started with a convenient, but extraneous data-entry on my laptop just two days before.
Yesterday afternoon I received a text message on my mobile phone scheduling an appointment for today, just a 10-minute walk from where I now live.
On arrival, I was greeted and asked to take a seat and expect Irene attend to me, but instead a gentleman came round to get me a good 40 minutes after the appointed time without apology.
Sign and whine
After introductions and a number of printouts I had to proofread and other questions I had to ask, I scrawled my signature at least 15 times on all sorts of documents to gain access to a support framework.
He said there was a form I had to fill in; the instruction was everyone had to fill the form in especially if you had lived out of the UK for more than 13 weeks in the last two years.
However, logic escaped its function because out of 12 questions, there was none I could answer because I am British citizen and every option it presented pertained to Mainland European citizens and beyond.
Where I was to present an identity document, there was no requirement of a UK passport, yet, I had to bend the logic to complete the first part and the sign it before he registered me for another needless meeting with some other official.
Bureaucracy to make you crazy
It was the dead hand of government; forms aping formula without function, exercises that exercised your patience into frustrated resignation as apparatchik automatons gave the zombie of government exhausted of life, long before we were born purpose for existence.
I will not suffer too much in this, as I am on therapy, and I engage my hospital in my holistic well-being, anything untoward I will offload unto them to resolve. My mental state remains sacrosanct. I will not entertain the attempts of the state to sap every will out of the person in what they term encouragement to purpose by negative inducement.
Yes, bureaucracies are there to make you crazy, not if I can help it.


Wednesday, 15 December 2010

Seize the day

It worked for them

I rarely read motivational books, I have always felt they were like snake oil remedies, people who might have found ways of making life work for thems who suddenly think their shoes will fit everyone else who tries them out and then readers would begin to walk the paths of success their motivational book mentors have charted.

Again, I have always been amused by amulet peddlers who have love potions, lucky charms, money spinning wheels and whatever incredible schemes, you never see them in contagious love, they are always down on their luck and if they could spin money the only positive end of that should be doling it out to charity to lift the ones who lack rather than looking for new ways to swindle the gullible.

Seize the day

In ways, I have charted my own way, learnt my own lessons, experienced my own life to the full and whatever regrets I have; they have become part of my own little narrative that confers a sense of uniqueness on my own tale.

Maybe, I heard this somewhere before, it might have come from the book of Proverbs something about seizing the day, the refusal to allow others create your agenda without consulting with you first and then trying to impose the situation on you.

Hear me out again

This morning I called my treatment advisor and remonstrated strongly about the course of treatment that had been left in limbo yesterday, the serology tests and results are indicative when compared to research findings that the intrusive procedure might not be necessary and an aggressive course of treatment should be commenced.

She probably did not understand me or comprehend my argument and premise the first time so she called again to fully understand what I was saying.

My medical history puts me in an at risk category, the less aggressive form of treatment could result in treatment failure that we might have to review in a year’s time when we could by the preponderance of statistical information of such situations address the matter with the accepted course of treatment that guarantees treatment success within 6 weeks.

It was now left to her to discuss this with my medical consultant and agree a comfortable set of choices I can subject myself to.

With me or no way

Meanwhile, the neurological department called and offered me two time slots demanding I attend tomorrow morning. Now, hardly 30 minutes before, I had been asked to standby for a major change taking place at work to allow for a colleague to attend hospital, I had agreed to that arrangement, I could not renege on that setup to the inconvenience of that carefully arranged schedule.

My work life gives me a sense of purpose just as my medical requirements allow for me to have the ability to fulfil my obligations – the medical condition is not life threatening but it needs attention, however, not of the urgency being urged on me.

The conversation with the neurology department went along the lines of the neurologist can only see me tomorrow and so I had to make the time to which I retorted, the neurologist should first consult me and we align our schedules to the convenience of both parties.

I was just not available

They were adamant but then if the patient is not available it would be interesting if they would send the police to come and get me; now that would be comical to the extreme; they just could not see me tomorrow and I made that quite clear – go back to the neurologist and let us plan a date for next week. My hospital is not a court, they should check my availability first.

They are probably not used to patients talking back, this patient is patient but not supine and it so transpired that they allowed themselves to appreciate my situation and we would now meet at 10:00AM on Monday morning, in fact, I was first asked to choose any time slot in the whole of next week but I deferred to their making that choice and I can make the necessary adjustments to my calendar.

First, it is my body

How is that for consideration, respect, resolution and basically not allowing yourself to be pushed over?

My medical consultant now has to be speak to a good few people and we just have to wait and see if I have to challenge the concert of medical opinion singing from the same sheet, knowing what is best for me despite the fact that it is first my body before it becomes a medical curiosity and if that is my last fight, it would have been well fought.

Tuesday, 5 December 2006

Bolton bolts

A sham-ppointment ended

Following his election victory of 2004, George W. Bush instigated some rather controversial appointments which did not endear him to many.

We guffawed when Condoleezza Rice was presented as the new Secretary of State succeeding Colin Powell, we wondered why Rumsfeld was still not given the boot and the nomination of Harriet Miers to the Supreme Court drew more brick-bats than accolades, she eventually declined.

However, the most irreverent of all was that of John Bolton as the US Ambassador to the UN.

Mr. Bolton, a smart, intelligent but abrasive man in want of tact and lacking the graces required of a diplomatic posting could not be countenanced by the US Senate for that position but he went anyway through a recess appointment which had to be confirmed by the Senate eventually.

At a time when the UN was in need for reform through sometimes driven by US animosity for the lack of support for their Iraqi intransigence, Mr. Bolton in the eyes of the President was the right party spoiler to shake the place up.

Diplomacy and demeanour still matters

Unfortunately, they forgot that the UN is still a place where your case has to be eased into the system to garner support – Mr. Bolton probably had great potential but his demeanour made that possibility unrealisable.

After 16 months in the position, the Senate now under the control of the Democrats is still implacable, concerning confirming his appointment and as if by great intuitiveness Mr. Bolton has read the tea leaves and fallen on his sword.

There would be many who like me would not shed a tear for his going and like the metaphor of shaving 10 storeys off the UN Secretariat Building, his presence there has made no bit of difference to improving the perception of Mr George W. Bush’s America.

“There is no such thing as the United Nations. United States makes the U.N. work when it wants it to work. If the U.N. Secretariat building in New York lost 10 stories, it would not make a bit of difference.” John Bolton – 1994

As for the title of this piece, it is not original, but quite apt, anyhow.