This morning I had an appointment at the surgery with the Asthma Nurse. I am going on the assumption that she is In Charge of Asthmatics & not actually inflicted with the condition herself…
I have been avoiding this appointment for the last couple of years and always see it as a small sign of victory when I successfully bag myself another inhaler whilst ignoring the orders of the receptionist to make an appointment with the Nurse.
Having lost my last inhaler at the weekend, I knew that time had run out & I couldn’t afford to be any length of time without a Ventolin fix if the prescription got refused on the grounds of me not co-operating, so I made the appointment…& I attended!
“Miss Lost in a Dream!” called the Nurse
“Hello” says I, & trotted behind her into the surgery.
“How are you feeling? I haven’t met you before have I?”
“I’m feeling great! No, I’m not familiar with you either, though I’m sorry that It’s been a couple of years now”
(I got a funny look for that last comment. I really must remember not to be so flippant at times!)
“Have you brought your notes with you?”
“Um, sorry, I forgot all about the diary thing, but don’t worry, it’s all in my head!” Actually, it’s easy. My triggers are cold weather, dust, animals & bullshit.
“Ok, first I’ll take your blood pressure & pulse.”
Easy enough!
“Now if you’d like to hop onto the scales”
“That’s slightly higher than I’d like to see”
Bitch!
“Have you got a wee sample with you?”
“Er, no, sorry!”
Crikey! Things have moved on since my last asthma check haven’t they? I wonder what they can ascertain from that?
She stares at me like she’s my mother. When I’ve just got home at 2am & woken everyone up.
“Sorry, which consultant are you under at the hospital?”
“I’m not, do I have to be? I’m absolutely fine! In fact, I took up kick-boxing in the summer, & it’s really helped.”
I have never seen a nurse’s head snap round as fast as hers did. The look of horror on her face was a picture. It’s a shame my phone was at the bottom of my bag or I would have taken a photo for you all.
“We don’t recommend anything too strenuous and certainly not contact sports! Have you thought about yoga?”
The flippant me would have said “Are you having a laugh?!” However, Nurse didn’t give me a chance to answer.
She’s looking at something on the computer.
“How many weeks are you now?”
“I’m sorry?”
She asks again.
“How many weeks pregnant are you?”
“But I’m not!” I squeak.
She looks at me.
“I am the Midwife. You are pregnant aren’t you?”
Oh. Good. God.
“No, I’m here for the Asthma Nurse…”
“Ah, that would explain why I didn’t recognise you! I’m due to see a lady with the same name as you this morning”
And then we both laughed a little too hysterically while I beat a hasty retreat back to the waiting room.
Now, I have questions regarding my time with her:
Do I look like a glowing mum-to-be?
At what point during the Internal would I have put my hand up to ask “Is this a strictly necessary part of asthma care?”
and
Do I really weigh more than a whale?
Actually, those are better not answered. I’ve been humiliated enough today.
If you were wondering, when I eventually got to see the real Asthma Nurse, all went well & I have enough inhalers now to last me for the next two years…
Lost in a Dream 