Saturday, 16 March 2013

Dermatology

Thursday, I had my first ever dermatology appointment, at a not so local hospital.  I'd asked J to come with me, months before.  I finished work and was home for about 10 minutes when she arrived to pick me up for the journey.  Found the hospital no problem but we couldn't find a parking space. 

J drops me off at the main hospital door, I have about 15 minutes before my appointment but, so that I'm not panicking, I leave the car and let J go on to find a space.  I look at the board, gosh it's complicated.  I head off to the left and I'm frantically reading signs as I stride.  I am supposed to be heading for the blue zone, outpatients one, I can see a sign for everything, but that.

A doctor is about 6 paces in front of me.  He flashes a pass and walks thought double doors, I pass through behind, tailgating him, immediately see a sign for "mortuary," and quickly jump back through the automatic doors before they close.  Pretty sure this is not where I'm supposed to be.

Handsome doctor approaches.  I say "doctor", he has a stethoscope around his neck and great hair... so I'm assuming.  I ask for directions, basically, I need to head back the way I've come, I went wrong from the word "go."

I've had a problem with my skin for over 20 years.  Since puberty actually, I've tried everything, every wash and mask you can buy from Boots.  I've had from the GP; antibiotics, gels, creams, lotions, potions, the pill, I've tried facials, nothing worked.  Six months ago, my GP offered me a referral to a dermatologist, couldn't help but wonder why I wasn't offered this 15-20 years ago?

It's 50 minutes after my appointment time when I'm finally called to a much smaller waiting area... to wait for another 5 minutes.  I finally get to see the doctor.  She is very nice, looks tired, is of Eastern European decent and while her English is good, I have to clarify everything as her accent is so strong.  I have to ask her to repeat most things or I repeat back to her to check my understanding.  My last chance is a very strong drug, it's a very mild, chemotherapy, has lots of side effects and I don't want to miss anything just by being too polite to double check my understanding.  The main thing is, I absolutely cannot get pregnant... from what I can gather.

After an embarrassing conversation about birth control, I was fine, doctor was embarrassed, she went on to say, "can you imagine having this conversation with a 15 year old... her Dad present?"  I did my best to alleviate the tension. 

I was asked to provide a variety of bodily fluids, I would need to provide about 10 samples over the course.  It's a six month treatment and it felt like I was being asked to jump through hoops.  The hospital is not local and it just seemed like, it was just too much.  I got a bit tearful and I pushed the paperwork on the desk, back towards the doctor, rejecting the treatment.  I've been left to cope with the situation for over 20 years, maybe I should just get on with it.

"You've waited this long... give it a chance."  The doctor was nice and I felt defeated and too tired to argue.  I was fed up, but already there, I may as well give it a chance.

"It'll just be five minutes, then you can go."  Well, five minutes turned into just over two hours.  To begin with, it took staff 10 minutes to take a water sample off me, then it took two staff, three tests, just to check that I wasn't pregnant.  And so it went on.  I left home at 2.45pm and got back at 6.50pm.

It's six months out of my life and I suppose I may as well give it a go, a last chance.  After that, the world had better get used to me as I am.

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