HOW TO DRIVE CUSTOMERS AWAY

I needed to get some prescriptions refilled as having been in Perth so long I had run out. So, I made an appointment for the surgery where the girls go. Now I've written about this doctors surgery before and it wasn't good , but I decided to give them another go.
( You may wish to revisit an old post-
http://lumpyone.blogspot.com.au/2014/08/desperately-seeking-heather.html )

Appointment was for 9.20am because I stupidly assumed he would run to time that early in the morning. Mistake number one. They opened at 7.30am. Receptionist staff were friendly and accomodating. They gave me a survey to fill out as they are doing their accreditation. Not a problem. I like  that sort of stuff.

The waiting room was stuffy and airless and the dark brown, dated face brick did it no favours whatsoever. The chairs were uncomfortable but as I didn't plan on being here long, who cares! The clientele waiting included three well dressed old ladies, one bikie and his girlfriend, one woman and her Down's syndrome child and me. It was peaceful.

Enter the family from hell. - Mum, her sister and three kids. The eldest about eight was clutching a pillow and sucking his thumb. He was in school uniform so not sure where the pillow was going after the appointment, but he didn't look like he'd let go of it in a hurry. The two youngest, boy and girl

about 3 and 4 definitely ate their weetbix for breakfast because they had boundless energy and started running round in circles in the tiny waiting room.

Master 3 was sucking on a dummy as if his life depended on it. It looked really odd however because only one side of his mouth sucked on it. I suppose that's so he could yell and scream with the other side. Mum went to reception to get them a colouring in to do. All three sat quietly for a full five seconds and then Miss 4 stole Master 3's green crayon and all hell broke loose.

She then got out of her seat and decided she would finish her drawing on the lap of one of the old ladies. This woman was wearing white pants and didn't look too pleased but she kept up a line of chatter with the kid.

What are you drawing?
It's Dora.
Oh, Dora the explorer.
Yes silly. And I've written my name.

(Old lady desparately trying to decipher four year old scribble.)
Your name is Olivia
No ( loud voice)
It's Lina
NO ( even louder voice). (I swear I saw bikie man clench his fist at this point).
It's Lily silly.

Mum meanwhile had been chasing Master 3 around. She plonked herself down in her chair just as Lily called the old lady silly. I expected an explosion but all that came out of her mouth was " I have three more at home".

By this time my appointment was 40 minutes late.

Master 3 seeing that his sister was getting some attention from the lovely old lady tried to befriend the bikie. Bad move. The kid got the glare from hell which resulted in some super duper dummy action and him taking off to his Mummy's bosom.

At this stage Dr Pleasure pants called my name and in I went. No pleasantries, no sorry to keep you waiting, no sorry you've been scarred by feral kids. Nothing.

What can I do for you?
I need some prescriptions refilled.
Tap, tap, tap on computer and done and goodbye in about three minutes.

Now maybe I've been spoiled by Dr Heather. In fact I know I have. But, the least I expected is a few questions about why I'm on the meds. Nothing. Patient in. Patient out. It couldn't have been more impersonal if he tried.

I completed the survey given to me when I arrived . I could have gone to town but I was quite restrained, till the last question.

How can we improve our service to you?
My answer - it would be nice if the doctor smiled and was friendly.

That's not too much to ask is it? Never again - driven away.

Till next time...xxx

FRUSTRATION, PATIENCE AND BROWNIES

I have been staring at a computer screen for days trying to overcome the writers block which has overtaken me. You see I can't think straight anymore and I find I also can't talk without effort. I certainly can't be creative and to a certain extent creativity is required in a blog. At one stage I even considered deleting it all so that I wouldn't have to write any more.

This story you see is starting to take its toll on me. Waking up every day and facing what is in store is draining the heart out of me.

Last week we found out  that the fistula in Ashton's neck has grown considerably . You may remember that the doctor was on a mission to destroy this fistula back in November, when a problem in her thyroid stopped proceedings. Investigations followed and  plans were made to reassess in another year. Problem solved....or so I thought.

You would have thought it was then a simple case of getting back to the original plan. Hell no! First it took over two weeks for a report to reach Ashton's doctor. By that stage he was off on leave to welcome baby number 3. (!!!) Then it was Christmas. Then it was New Year and THEN he went on holidays.

Now we certainly don't begrudge him his down time. This doctor and his team work bloody hard. But when we finally got to a review early January and found out the fistula had grown significantly, we didn't expect to have to wait another 3 weeks to get to theatre.

Yes, I know about triage. I get triage, but I don't like it when my daughter's condition has become worse. But its pointless isn't it? Its pointless to moan because there is nothing I can say or do to influence the tight schedules and tight budgets  these doctors work under. All we can do is carry on and pray.

                                                      
And eat chocolate. A friend just brought me a plate of homemade brownies and they are to die for.

My support crew has gone into overdrive. My news feed and messenger is filled with  positivity and prayers and virtual cuddles. They can tell that I am close to breaking point. But...that is not an option.It never has been.

Last night I messaged another mother whose teenage son is going through a shockingly similar situation. I needed someone who gets it. She told me not to let the Devil get a foothold in my mind. Now I'm Catholic and we don't seem to talk much about the Devil, but for some reason this comment made sense. Don't let your mind be full of negative thoughts. Don't let these thoughts take over your thinking. Just remember God is on the case. 

 I get it.I've always got it. I just forget and lose hope every so often.

Today was no better. Ashton developed a headache overnight and though I suspect the assignment due today was a contributing factor, she has no option but to head to the ED and submit for more tests. Stress? Tension? Fistula ? Who knows? There is no extra blockage, so this time it might be a normal people's headache. Shame she can't manage it like a normal person would. Imagine if we all had to go to the ED everytime we had a headache. Saturday mornings would be crowded!

So that's the 19th almost done with and that means 18 days till surgery. Let's hope this fistula doesn't increase anymore in the meantime. Enough is enough.

Till next time...xxx