Visiting Kermit again

Monday 15th February 2010

Saw Kermit that afternoon. Once again the car parking at the hospital was horrendous so John dropped me off outside the orthopaedic clinic.

While John was unloading Wizzy (my wheelchair), I noticed Mr Buchanan, who had been my orthopaedic consultant until his retirement a couple of years ago, walking towards the car.
“Hello there”, he said, “lovely to see you again”.
“You too”, I replied, “how are you enjoying your retirement”.
“Fine thanks. I still do a bit of consultant work to keep me busy”, he said.
He then noticed Wizzy, “what’s the matter”, he asked.
“I got an infection in my hip replacement and had to have it removed. So I’m hipless at the moment”.
“I have to confess I did know”, he replied, “Steve (Kermit) contacted me a couple of months ago wanting to discuss your case with me”.
He then wished me well and hoped I got a new hip soon.

Once again Kermit was running a little late – only fifty minutes this time….
“Hi there”, he said, coming into the consulting room and sitting down on the examination bed, “how’re doing”.
“I was fine until Monday”, I replied, “the problem I had in hospital with my back has returned”.
He looked through my notes, “I’m afraid you’re always now going to have a weakness with your back. The only cure is surgery. I think that’s not something either of us wants at the moment”.

He prescribed me stronger painkillers and hoped, like the last time, that it would settle down of it’s own accord.
“So how did you get on with the plastic surgeon”, he asked.
“To be honest I wasn’t impressed with him”, I said, “I got the impression that he wasn’t willing to do the skin graft and he said that the muscle transplant wasn’t possible”.
“Did he now !!!”, replied Kermit, “I value his opinion, but…..”

It was not wise to upset Kermit so I wouldn’t want to be in the plastic man’s shoes when he next speaks to him !!!!

“I’d like to see you again in a months time”, he said, “hopefully by then your back will have settled down and I’ll have received the notes from the plastic surgeon”.

Five minutes after I had handed in my prescription script at the hospital’s pharmacy department, one of the pharmacists came out to see me.
“There’s a slight problem with your prescription”, she said, “so I need to have a word with your consultant”.
Thirty five minutes later and she returned, “it’s fine now”, she said to me.
A couple of minutes later she called out my name.
“As they are a class B controlled drug I need to see some form of identification before I hand over your painkillers”, she asked.
“No problem”, I said, showing her my drivers licence which I always keep in my purse.
“That’s excellent”, she replied, “now I need you to sigh here….. and here… and here….and here….and finally here”.

All this for one small box of painkillers !!!!