Thursday, 26 March 2009

Hurrah! Appointment date at last...

Two weeks pass and no word from the hospital to say they've received the fax from the doctor and are offering me an appointment. I call the doctors and the harassed receptionist assures me the referral letter was faxed and I must just wait. Hmm.
Three weeks pass. I decide enough is enough and call the Infertility Unit at the hospital to see if they've received the fax. Of course they haven't, but to my amazement I get through to a real live person as I'm rushing to the station on my way to work, and am so breathless that for a moment I think she's about to hang up on me, thinking I'm some kind of heavy breathing weirdo. The lovely-sounding lady at the end of the line waits patiently while I regain my composure and begin rattling off my whole sorry tale of woe.
I picture her putting the phone on the desk, going off to the photocopier, getting a cup of coffee from the vending machine, checking her email then picking up the receiver again 20 minutes later as I continue babbling on the other end , oblivious to the fact she hasn't listened to a word.
After letting me rant for a while, she apologises for the incompetence of the system and offers to call and chase the doctor for me. My relief is palpable. Thank God, I think, I am actually dealing with a compassionate, nice, human being. They are not as common as you'd like to think.
Anyway, the upshot of it all is that I eventually got an appointment, after several phone calls, faxes, messages and pleas. Anyone would think I was trying to organise the G8 summit, not an appointment at my local hospital.
So, now it's the waiting game again. 12th May is D-Day.....

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