This year has presented me with the same symptoms again, necessitating an ultrasound which indicated the need for further investigation in the form of a hysteroscopy under general anaesthetic.
When the nice lady from the hospital rang to arrange the appointment, I asked if it could be after Easter, to which she replied, "Well, you're down as a priority" which did, I don't mind admitting, fill me with a degree of alarm. So last week I went for my pre-op assessment and today, I should have been arriving at the hospital at 11.30 for the afternoon list.
On Monday, I had received another call, from the same nice lady, informing me that, instead of Mr xxxx, Mrs xxxxxxx would be doing the operation. Did I need a follow up letter? Not really, given the short time scale and the fact that we have had no post since last Thursday. I would be there as planned.
This morning, as I came in from climbing round the field with Paddy in the still-deep snow, I was greeted at the door by Keith with the phone in his hand, on the other end of which was another lady wondering why I was not at the hospital.
It appears that Monday's caller had omitted to tell me that the change of surgeon also meant a change of list, from the afternoon to the morning!
As I had been told I could have a light breakfast before 7.30am, I had, so now I am told that I have a new appointment for next Wednesday - morning list.
In the grand scheme of things, it's not a huge deal but I had to work hard to get even a grudging apology at the end of the phone call and that's a big part of my feeling of frustration this morning. Quite apart from the fact that someone messed up, why oh why is it so difficult these days to get an apology from organisations, whoever they are? It costs nothing and would do much to soothe ruffled feelings in most cases.
Meanwhile, I shall get back to normal life for another week...
