A good day yesterday in one respect but very bad in another, my own temper pushed to the limit.
We both got our 3rd jabs at the surgery with no waiting, but the doctor who did it was not ours but the other one in the practice. So when I mentioned that we had a couple of other issues to discuss, that I was perfectly ready to book an appointment for as this was a vaccine visit, he cut me off mid sentence with a ‘no, no, no, only with Dr. Parisot, I am only doing vaccinations’. Fair enough, I half expected it though perhaps not so rudely.
During our 15 minute ‘recuperation’ time I went to see the receptionist about making an appointment and she said the first available was January the 31st.
I explained that the 2 issues were urgent and she allowed me to elaborate. As Fran can no longer be relied upon to sign her own name I have a form to back up our ‘Life’ certs for the UK pension people giving me the legal right to sign for her. But I needed an attestation from the doctor that she was incapable. Fortunately she later got the doctor to sign such a document and sent it to me by email. But the other thing apparently can wait. As has been said, both on here and by the APA visitor (nothing to do with us, ask the doctor) we could get an ordonnance for a single mechanical bed to allow me to safely get Fran up each day. I explained the importance and that it is possible that her initial fall was less serious in that no bones were affected, but that, in the tiny space I have to manoeuvre, I had inadvertantly dislocated her shoulder and might well do it again to avoid her being totally bedridden. A blank look was my reward and no such ordonnance has been forthcoming. My mood was not helped by the fact that, as I very briefly went out the door to get the papers she asked for, another woman nipped in and took my place. A conversation ensued which lasted more than 10 minutes and included the bloody doctor who happened to go in with some documents and entered into the general discussion, the same doctor who was so pressed that I was not even allowed to finish a sentence during the jab session.
On the way home, Jules the Beauceron, let out a loud scream right in my ear which frightened the life out of me and, in shock, I yelled at him to be quiet. He has this habit each time he sees an animal or human outside of the car, but usually he has been further back before I rejigged the car as a car with the back seats back in place, rather than a dog carrying transporter. To make matters worse, Fran glared at me with real aggression and said ‘calm down’. ‘CALM DOWN, CALM DOWN? Easy to say coming from someone who has to do absolutely nothing in this life but eat and bloody sleep’. I really lost it and had a headache when we got home.
Today I am calm, but have a terrible feeling of hopelessness. And very, almost weepy. I can’t seem to snap out of it. And she has this habit of ignoring me, when I speak sometimes there is no response. Not just no answer, but not a flicker of recognition that I have been heard, as if I didn’t exist. It is very wearing.
Time to go and feed the dogs, they are overdue but not fussing, and they eat what is put before them with no arguement. Terrible as it sounds, I am learning to adopt the same attitude towards Fran, she is apparently incapable of making any decision of what she would like for dinner. 2 choices is one choice too many.
I feel a little better now. From a receptionist who thinks it is ok to risk breaking someone’s shoulder, a doctor who doesn’t give a shit, a dog who, otherwise cuddly and gentle seem intent on splitting my eardrum, to a woman who is locked in her own world and seems to only come out of it to criticise or keep up a continuous moaning complaint at being helped, it is a great relief to know someone is, at least, listening.