What to write, what to right?
I have a plan so cunning I could stick a tail on it and call it a weasel.
I know what I have to do, and that is my course but apart from getting back on the academic rails, I have to make complaints about my GP surgery and the entire system that writes one off when one reaches a certain age.
I don't really like complaining because it does not make it any easier for me, but when one has been forced into the corner and there is no where else to go, then you come out fighting even if you bear bruises of it.
It took from 2001 to 2007 to get my left arm operated on, from when my left hand first went AWOL to it being "fixed" and I still await the op on the other arm.
But then in 2004 my left foot started showing the same signs, and just because it was ok when I had the nerve function tests that decided for them that my hands needed sorting, is no reason to believe it is still alright now at the end of the GP's financial year when they want to budget for more tests.
What to do,? shoot oneself in the foot, then they'd have to fix it wouldn't they!!!? Well maybe complaining is the metaphorical equivalent of so doing but after that I wouldn't count on much support from any of my GP's.
Well do I really want to see my medical records? (the ones that have not vanished that is) That is what I am going to have to do, to get it sorted I suppose.
At least I have got my benefit back till 2012 unless I "recover" in the meantime, and you can bet between now and the reform of the benefits system they will have another go to push me off it. That's one less thing to fight.
Who knows though I might not need it if I become a millionaire media mogul in the meantime, or the next vice Chancellor or Birmingham University cos I tell you now after my GP him and his whole crew are the next to go.
I have a little list ..........
2 comments:
uy, sorry to hear that you are having more problems...
is that meant to look like a golem, becos after i thought CHOCOLATE, my next thought was GOLEM. and i don't mean the l.o.t.r. variety.
The significance of the picture, I just wanted to do something different, it is sort of like me wearing my war paint for an attack on the medical fraternity.
Any way it is all to do with the freak show element of the portrayal of medical and pysciatric conditions.
My complaints about life recently has much to do in a metaphorical sense with a connective tissue disorder in that the fabric of ones life is permeated by seperation and not being joined up.
Ones life is seen in pieces, an orthopedic surgeon deals with one aspect, a psychiatris with another, a social worker with yet another and nobody ever sees the whole person or the effect of interactions between the aspects of ones life which can either be affirming or negative
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