So today I had the pleasure of yet another hospital visit. This time for an ultrasound of the gut. I’d known the gallstones have been lurking since the start of the year without causing much hassle. Not so much the last few weeks. Ouch!
This was not just any hospital visit, this was the new ‘Super’ hospital in Glasgow. In the several hours I spent there I witnessed a patient eating a lighter, a member of the cleaning staff dealing with ‘explosive diarrhoea’ (not mine), and a cuffed man with his two handlers. Interesting place!
I waited to see the doctor about the results, waited is an understatement. It’s just gone 6pm at home and they’ve only just called. They called because I refused to stay any longer without pain meds which they aren’t allowed to prescribe me in the ‘Super’ hospital. Husband even went to WH Smith to purchase painkillers, but was informed they cannot sell painkillers in the ‘Super’ hospital grounds. Super shite!
“Sack this” I said and informed the nursing staff in Drake fashion that I’d be leaving and they could call me on my cell phone.
To be continued…