Medical morale booster

This morning's GP visit resulted in my being sent directly to the Surgical Assessment Unit attached to UHW Heath hospital, to get the expert physical examination he agreed I needed, after waiting so long for surgery. Clare drove me there before taking the train to visit Marion over in Bristol. 

On arrival, a charming young nursing assistant from Poland took my details and checked my vital signs, then after a short wait, I was summoned by the triage nurse to tell my story, and for her to see how this checked out against my computerised medical record. She was a senior, experienced nurse, and I learned she lived in the Vale of Usk and was involved in the life her rural group of parishes. She understood, that I'm still a working cleric and need to be clear about my own condition, given the possible demand on my services over Christmas and a parish interregnum to help cover in the New Year. I think my concerned made sense to her. 

After a longer wait I met the Nurse Practitioner heading the team in partnership with whatever doctors are on surgical duty, not that I expected emergency surgery today. She had the measure of the situation, and having examined the wound and medical record, proposed an unexpected course of action. She'd already ascertained that my MRI scan was stored on the network, and rang around her contacts with friendly colleagues at work and found a Radiological Consultant who would agree to read and write the necessary referral report before the afternoon was out. Then this, along with their own report, would go to the colorectal surgical team for urgent attention Monday next.

There was nothing more to do except wait, and I was kindly offered a spare bed in a treatment room to take the pressure off my backside, where another patient was being fed on a drip before moving him to a ward. No, I was reassured, I wasn't bed blocking. I was glad of this, not least because there were two men about my age waiting to be seen, and expressing their anxiety by complaining to the nurses about the lack of duty doctors, demanding they do something about it. I would like to have taken them to task for their impropriety, but couldn't summon the energy to challenge them. It was a relief to escape from the whingeing into another room. 

I dozed for a couple of hours, occasionally answering incoming texts and emails, as the mobile and free wifi signals ebbed and flowed according to demand. I enjoyed being there listening to the comings and goings of the staff. Always busy, cheerful, easygoing, calm, quietly purposeful, no tense voices, no arguments. A real team, fulfilling its vital purpose, and make life more tolerable.

Although there was no colorectal specialist among the doctors on rotation today, one was recruited to come and give me a cursory examination, for the purpose of completing their investigation and recommendation. Then I was discharged, having been reassured that the condition is not, as I feared worsening, just chronic but stable. I am doing the right thing to manage it and prevent it getting any worse. It was so reassuring to hear this, like a weight falling from my shoulders, after coping without support, apart from sister in law Ann's advice, since the summer. Much cheered, I walked home in the rain via Tesco's to buy some more Nero d'Avola to drink over the weekend. My favourite tipple at the moment, in modest amounts.