Goodbye Kate?

I have been thinking about this one quite a lot lately.

There's an entry a while back about my friend Kate. At the time of this entry, it's been six months since I called her. She hasn't contacted me at all. I have had reason to speak to her husband to put some work his way, but from what he didn't say, it seems my absence has been totally unnoticed.

How to feel about this?

Disappointed, as it appears I am disposable. 18 months ago I was witness at their wedding, and now I am nobody.

Angry, because I worked very hard to include her in my life and to help her work thorugh a very tough situation.

And maybe even a little bit vindicated. I suspected that, as she only ever called me when she wanted something/needed to bitch about husband & family/was being ground down by work, I was being used. Looks like I was right.

So here's the thing. Their baby is due in five weeks. I will no doubt be notified of the arrival, probably by a mutual friend or text message. Do I send a card and gift, or do I just maintain radio silence?

Drug Abuse?

It's Saturday night and I'm staying in. It's cold and dark, I have an appointment with the specialist on Monday morning and I thought it might be nice to give him a set of blood samples that are less than 14% ABV.

And I'm in a tiny bit of pain. And I'm bored. But does this justify having a Tramadol?

For those who are not aware, Tramadol is an opiate based painkiller, that, as I understand it, works by increasing the flow of endorphins to either block the pain, or to make you not notice it. And by being an opiate, obviously.

Now, I'm a lucky odditity, as was discovered after my surgery a few years ago. I had the standard morphine push button drip wired up, but was still so stoned post-op that I had misheard almost everything the staff had told me, so thought I could get a hit about every 25 minutes, and jolly nice it was.

Sometimes I didn't need a hit for pain reasons, but took one from time to time as the ward was pretty chaotic and grim, so I guess you could say I used it for mental health reasons.
The days passed and the pain managment team turned up to assess me. And were very impressed by how little morphine I'd used.

Turns out I could have had some every five minutes. Bugger.

This and my reactions to other sedatives led to the conclusion that I have overdeveloped opiate receptors, which means any moderate dose of opiate painkiller works exceptionally well, and I also get all the good side effects - improved mood, a deep fascination with small things and generally have a very nice time.

Consequently, a single Tramadol would do nothing for most people, or at best might give them 3-4 hours pain relief, but leave me happy as a sandboy for about 8 hours.

But opiates can be habit forming (i.e. heroin), so must not be treated lightly. In theory I could take some paracetomol and hope for the best, but if I take some tramadol, I know it will work and also give me a good night being delighted with the thread count on my Egyptian cotton bedsheets....*

So I guess I'm wondering, where is the line between prescription drug use and prescription drug abuse?




*I spent a happy evening in bed after some tramadol pondering the egyptian cotton, thinking about the Nile tide irrigation system, the family that had grown it and how it had got from the cotton field to my bed and being generally grateful for the whole process.

Can I make an appointment to make an appointment?

It's been a few months I know, but I'm back at work and it's all been a bit special. Helped by the following turn of events....

I receive an appointment for my specialist on 19th October, bang in the middle of the day, so I duly book the day off work.

I then receive another letter saying that due to unforseen circumstances, the appointment is changed to 25th October. I suck my teeth a bit, but shove the letter on the pin board with the rest of the stuff I can't find a home for.

I get a third letter advising me that the appointment has been changed to December. This is meant to be a six monthly check, and December stretches it to nine months. I do not suck my teeth this time, this time I say a bad word quite loudly. And ring the hospital.

Kelly seems like a nice girl, but over the phone, I can her her tongue curling over the corner of her mouth as she attempts to enter my details into the computer with evenly spaced clunks. I am kind and patient, and explain that changing an appointment three times really isn't acceptable to me, and that my nice employers are struggling to keep up with the holiday chart.

She is polite, and explains there isn't anything she can do. I ask to speak to her supervisor, she says she will put me through. And the phone rings and rings......

I call back and ask for the supervisors' direct dial number, which I get, because I am kind and patient. I ring the supervisor. Natalie the supervisor is not kind or patient, and I begin to feel sorry for Kelly. Natalie says that appointments are cancelled because consultants 'just go off on holiday whenever they feel like it'. Although she doesn't say it, I think the next part of the sentence was probably 'and leave me to clear up the mess'. I explain that I must have an appointment in October. There is some thudding of keys and she says all clinics are cancelled at that time. I offer to call the Patient Liaison (wonderful people who get things done, and report to the Board). There is a pause, and then suddenly an appointment pops up on screen.

It is my original appointment on 19th October.

So why was it cancelled in the first place? The clinic is running, the consultant is not on holiday, and the NHS have wasted quite some money writing to me three times.