(further to my previous GP versus me blog posts)
Mum rang at 8.10. Got an appointment for 9.20. Turns out we know too many people - I knew 1/3 of the people in the waiting room at this point on a Friday morning. Mum cooed over a small baby, probably realising my complete despise of children under 5 was going to mean no ickle babies from me for her to coo over, and my sister is not really showing much in the way of maternal instinct either. Anyway, we went in.
First things first, she asked about my sister. As she had been involved in the emergency referral to the shoulder people for her last week. Once the others had been asked about, she asked how I was. "Fine, except for my wrists" I said. Having looked at my notes, she may have been expecting a visible wound or something, but it wasn't (I'm not sure I'd have gone in with my mother if that was the case...)
She wiggled my wrists and my elbows. Stole my blood, turns out being much lighter than I have been in the past when blood was stolen makes my blood more easy to steal. Will send it off to some place far away for tests, will know in 3 weeks time and will contact me if it is dodgy.
Gave me a prescription that I'm currently staring at with utter horror. The thought of having drugs in me again worries me. I fought so hard to get off the psych meds (which my notes still said I was on, now updated) that realising I'm now going to be putting more drugs in me is scary. But if they might work, I need to give them a go. Will also kickstart the need to eat breakfast too. [One of my exams is at 10am, and I need to have got used to eating breakfast before that day as not to be changing too much on an important day]
Oh, and she weighed me. Said "Well hopefully this time you will be in double figures rather than triple." I am, now. Even with heavy shoes on I am more into the double figures than I have been for years. I had got well into the triple figures territory (kilograms) when I was last there, and that was in no way my highest weight. So my records won't show me as huuuuuuuuge, just huuuuge.
Obviously doesn't know about piano playing. Was wondering how you sit/hold your arms out for piano playing - some wonder how she has come through life this far not really taking in how people sit at the piano. Also said, "Hang on, so you are an organist, like it is your job. [Yeeeessss.] So if I don't do my job well and my patients die, you get busy? We have a business plan there!"
She didn't recoil at my arms, but she did take the bloods herself as she probably didn't want to subject some poor everyday vampire to them (or me to the vampires, I suppose).
Upshot of all of this is maybe she isn't quite as scary as I had thought. I will go and get the drugs after doing this funeral at lunchtime. I will be contacted if the blood tests show arthritis as I'll be referred on, otherwise if the pain doesn't go down I should go back in a month.
And now I shall go and give a dear old lady hopefully a fitting musical tribute. Out of everyday clothes into funeral gear. She worked in a brewery during her life - was required to drink 2 pints a day as a woman (4 if she was a man). It sounds like a job I wouldn't have managed in, I hate beer!
I only knew her as the frail old lady who smiled through the pain of her failing body. In a way, it is special to be in a role that means you are there for the end of the life, and you do the bits before the dying too. However, sometimes it is a bit like you are constantly facing your own mortality. Wrist pain or no wrist pain, I'm still around. And hopefully shall do many more baptisms, weddings and other joyful events alongside the funerals which I try to do with kindness and realising that music is very effective especially in what may seem like a gloomy day with the "promise of life to come" seemingly distant and difficult to believe in.
Out of the stripy socks, into the boring black socks. Though this woman would have probably liked my stripy socks, I doubt I could get away with it. I shall respect her by wearing suitable socks.