Carol had another appointment at Milton Keynes Hospital on Thursday at the endoscopy department. The time we had to be there was 8.30 a.m. We left in the car, preferring not to walk, and got there in good time. Difficult at times to judge how long it would take, especially if the traffic is going to be heavy as well as finding the department within the hospital. We parked in the multi-storey car park and then walked across to the main entrance. Carol saw a couple of her pupils from the Academy and she had to explain why she wasn't at work. We entered the hospital through the main entrance but then discovered that the endoscopy department was actually reached without that long haul along that (seemingly)endless corridor. You could get to it from the outside without going through the main entrance. We reported to the reception desk and Carol had to fill in a form to give details of any medications she was on and other health-related details. A fairly long wait in the waiting area then followed.
People were being called through to be ready for their treatments/therapies or whatever you want to call them. Carol was eventually called in and got ready by being processed (for want of a better word) by one of the nurses, going through a list to make sure she had no allergic reactions to mediations as well as having a blood-sugar test as she's diabetic.
I waited with her until she went through for the endoscopy. I then went back to sit in the waiting room. Oh dear. So depressing. Well, I suppose it would be. Lots of people making sure they didn't make eye-contact with anyone else. People coming and going. The place decorated to a sort of bland N.H.S. standard. Too many posters all over the place. Far too much information and most of it likely to be forgotten as soon as you walked out of the place. 'Information over-load' I think you could say. A baby making odd gurgling noises. The young woman sitting next to me seemed more interested in her mobile phone than making any sort of conversation or even living in the 'real world.' A woman came into the reception area in a wheelchair and she began a very loud conversation with the woman behind the counter. She said she was deaf so she couldn't hear everything and then proceeded to regail the entire waiting room about how she'd had such-and-such procedure and how was it that she'd put up with some pain for 20-odd years and the doctors could find nothing wrong, so why did they do the procedure three times and then she repeated it several more times, at the top of her voice. It was a bit like one of Alan Bennett's characters, or one of his monologues, the one's done on television, called 'Talking Heads.' She could be played by either Thora Hird or Maggie Smith.
Then Carol reappeared. There were two ladies she knew, from another church in Milton Keynes, Loughton Baptist Church or somewhere. I didn't know who they were. They chatted for a while and then we left. The procedure Carol had had only took a few minutes and we walked out of the unit and back towards the entrance of the hospital and bought some pastries in Costa and then went back to the car and home.
People were being called through to be ready for their treatments/therapies or whatever you want to call them. Carol was eventually called in and got ready by being processed (for want of a better word) by one of the nurses, going through a list to make sure she had no allergic reactions to mediations as well as having a blood-sugar test as she's diabetic.
I waited with her until she went through for the endoscopy. I then went back to sit in the waiting room. Oh dear. So depressing. Well, I suppose it would be. Lots of people making sure they didn't make eye-contact with anyone else. People coming and going. The place decorated to a sort of bland N.H.S. standard. Too many posters all over the place. Far too much information and most of it likely to be forgotten as soon as you walked out of the place. 'Information over-load' I think you could say. A baby making odd gurgling noises. The young woman sitting next to me seemed more interested in her mobile phone than making any sort of conversation or even living in the 'real world.' A woman came into the reception area in a wheelchair and she began a very loud conversation with the woman behind the counter. She said she was deaf so she couldn't hear everything and then proceeded to regail the entire waiting room about how she'd had such-and-such procedure and how was it that she'd put up with some pain for 20-odd years and the doctors could find nothing wrong, so why did they do the procedure three times and then she repeated it several more times, at the top of her voice. It was a bit like one of Alan Bennett's characters, or one of his monologues, the one's done on television, called 'Talking Heads.' She could be played by either Thora Hird or Maggie Smith.
Then Carol reappeared. There were two ladies she knew, from another church in Milton Keynes, Loughton Baptist Church or somewhere. I didn't know who they were. They chatted for a while and then we left. The procedure Carol had had only took a few minutes and we walked out of the unit and back towards the entrance of the hospital and bought some pastries in Costa and then went back to the car and home.
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