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mandragoraThursday I had to go to the local hospital for tests. On the plus side as a result I discovered, after almost two decades of living in the area, where the local hospital actually is. It was rather comforting to discover that should I ever require it (hopefully not) there's an A&E about 5 minutes drive away from where I live. Er, that's 5 minutes not in the rush hour, as even with all sirens blazing it's still going to take the ambulance a while to get round the North Circ when it's nose to tail full of commuters.
The tests in the morning involved the extraction of blood for various tests. My GP told me to fast from 9.00pm the night before, which I duly did. I checked out the hospital's website that night and learned all sorts of fascinating facts about the various department's performance targets for the coming year. Alas, any information about where I actually needed to go for the performance of the tests and what the procedure was was sadly lacking.
I duly arrived the Thursday morning and attempted to find a place in the carpark. I figured when I saw the amount of cars that were double-parked that I would have no joy in finding a space. I was right. In the end I drove all the way round the back of the entire hospital site and parked on a bit of wasteground. On the plus side I avoided having to pay the parking fees.
Went to reception and read the sign telling me that I needed to take a number for the blood test. Which I duly did. I looked at the number. 66. Unlucky for some. Looked at the number that was currently being seen. 25. Hmmm.
One hour thirty minutes later I finally reached the head of the queue.
"Oh," says the woman who was preparing the needle, "but you're having the glucose test as well as the others, aren't you? You didn't need to wait you know, as you're fasting. You could've come straight to the head of the queue."
Now they tell me.
"So," she continues brightly as she continues to prep the needle, "you've not eaten anything since last night or drunk anything but water?"
Me, with that sinking feeling: "Er, no. I mean I had a glass of diet lemonade this morning. My GP didn't say anything about only drinking water..."
"Ah, sorry," she says. "Can you come back tomorrow?"
The answer was no, as I was in court Friday morning. The upshot is I have to go back on Monday for the blood tests, having gone back again on Thursday afternoon for the other tests. But, why, oh why, didn't my GP tell me not to drink anything but water and why, oh why, wasn't there a sign at the hospital reception by the place where you take the queue ticket for the blood tests telling you that you don't need to wait if you're fasting? And why is the hospital website so crap?
Bureaucracy...
The tests in the morning involved the extraction of blood for various tests. My GP told me to fast from 9.00pm the night before, which I duly did. I checked out the hospital's website that night and learned all sorts of fascinating facts about the various department's performance targets for the coming year. Alas, any information about where I actually needed to go for the performance of the tests and what the procedure was was sadly lacking.
I duly arrived the Thursday morning and attempted to find a place in the carpark. I figured when I saw the amount of cars that were double-parked that I would have no joy in finding a space. I was right. In the end I drove all the way round the back of the entire hospital site and parked on a bit of wasteground. On the plus side I avoided having to pay the parking fees.
Went to reception and read the sign telling me that I needed to take a number for the blood test. Which I duly did. I looked at the number. 66. Unlucky for some. Looked at the number that was currently being seen. 25. Hmmm.
One hour thirty minutes later I finally reached the head of the queue.
"Oh," says the woman who was preparing the needle, "but you're having the glucose test as well as the others, aren't you? You didn't need to wait you know, as you're fasting. You could've come straight to the head of the queue."
Now they tell me.
"So," she continues brightly as she continues to prep the needle, "you've not eaten anything since last night or drunk anything but water?"
Me, with that sinking feeling: "Er, no. I mean I had a glass of diet lemonade this morning. My GP didn't say anything about only drinking water..."
"Ah, sorry," she says. "Can you come back tomorrow?"
The answer was no, as I was in court Friday morning. The upshot is I have to go back on Monday for the blood tests, having gone back again on Thursday afternoon for the other tests. But, why, oh why, didn't my GP tell me not to drink anything but water and why, oh why, wasn't there a sign at the hospital reception by the place where you take the queue ticket for the blood tests telling you that you don't need to wait if you're fasting? And why is the hospital website so crap?
Bureaucracy...
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Date: 16 March 2004 10:52 (UTC)no subject
Date: 16 March 2004 12:02 (UTC)*g* We live to please. Glad I could make someone happy with my Tale of Woe. I won't get the results of the tests for a while, but at least I actually managed to have the blood extracted on Monday - this time I marched straight to the head of the queue, and they saw me immediately. I've got a lovely bruise where the nurse stuck the needle in... 4 times. Lucky I'm not squeamish about needles, huh.
And. Love the icon. Jeanie. Mmmm.