A week left

On Monday I went to NABATO Doc as I felt suicide hit me again following the “BP”incident. I “walked “in to and out his surgery in trance’

I sat at home crying and then I got a telephone call from him saying he had arranged an EMERGENCY appointment with the Psychiatrist in Ward F, the psychiatric ward, of the local hospital on Christmas eve at 11.00 am..

OH CRAP! I could be hospitalised for Christmas.

I prepared a “speech” with copies of the medical opinion, compliment slip etc etc. A few people called round to wish me a “Happy Christmas” I wanted to tell them to FUCK OFF, LEAVE ME ALONE.

Albert, Louise and Dave: sorry I was not very receptive.

I didn’t sleep that night and was at the hospital an hour early and bumped into 4 people: A nurse from Ward C where I was with the Lung Abscess. A hospital porter, John, that I always see sitting on his bum in his “office” except this time I caught him dealing with a patient. A first! And Dickie Green a friend from my youth, the man that started my nickname “The Mad Dentist”  And Stewart the physiotherapist, swearing like a trouper  as normal.

All asked how I was, so I said the reason I was there and ALL said the same thing, in different ways, ie WTF did Dai Sheepman do to you and why are you STILL in this shit?

They all said they however would visit me, in my straight jacket, bearing gifts of beer over Christmas.

The 11.00 o’clock appointment came.

At 11 on the dot in walked Dr B****. I started the spiel and she said

WHOA  stop.

I feel you have been abysmally treated by the NHS as you, a professional man, have lost ABSOLUTELY everything and you deserve compensation. I can not think of anything I can do off hand but I will write letters to say that. You are obviously extremely stressed specially with the loss of your musical skills on top of loosing your career. It is hard work getting qualified and to be treated as you were is disgusting”

and so she continued for 35 minutes.

She knew my sister well and thought it odd she had reacted as she did. She said the last psych I saw, the consultant,  not offering me treatment was odd as I desperately need resolution. She pulled a face at the mention of Dai  Sheepman, not much of one but enough to notice.  She said she could see why suicide was mentioned but that is not an option because you deserve more, think of your son etc etc

She has arranged for me to get someone to listen to my rantings and said she will be available to write letters if requested……………

BLOODY HELL SOMEONE HAS LISTENED TO ME AT LAST

SOMEONE HAS AT LAST SAID THAT the destruction of my life, career and health has ONE CAUSE

Dr Dai Sheepman, assisted by the Welsh NHS.

I have to say here that I received a letter, dated 22nd December, from the Welsh Health Minister saying: “I can see that this is affecting you greatly and very much hope that you will be able to find a way to come to terms with what has happened. Thank you Madam for your kind thoughts. I cried when I read your letter, thank you.

And then I saw Dr B****. Now I can say that THERE is now a tunnel, with a light at the end of it. I now know it exists and it is just a matter of time until I find it.

I have suffered 10 years of hell because of Dai Sheepman, assisted by my sister, Dr K**** and others.

Thank you to Dr G*** for listening to me unlike Dr C. Unlike Dr K****

============

I went to the pub for a Christmas drink and again was greeted as “AL the Mad Dentist” see Last Christmas 

As I walked in I was greeted by one man, Arthur, pointing at his lower jaw, saying very loudly that he had toothache and could I take a couple of teeth out. I said ” Lets go outside, then you call me a twat and I will knock the bastards out!!” Amazingly the WHOLE pub stopped and laughed and I got a mini round of applause. 

One guy, Moggie, shouted: “you’re back” 

I was only there an hour and I again re-met many more old patients all with similar greetings and ALL of whom said how much they missed me. All of whom STILL wanted me to re-open again.

Thank you Richard, the kick boxer, Paul and Helen, Beakie, Ray, Dai Painter, Dai Computer, Bob, Geoff, Clayson, Arthur and Stewart for believing in me and staying friends.

2 pints of Carling went down really well and even though I was alone for Christmas lunch: Sirloin steak with a salmon fillet in a garlic and tomato sauce, accompanied by sprouts, beetroot and mixed veg. I felt more relaxed even though my head was spinning, going over the last ten years.

I fuckin’ enjoyed that meal knowing AT LAST that someone else KNOWS I AM RIGHT and seems to be prepared to back that up in writing. Thank you Dr B****.

But still a lot to do.

 

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One Response to “A week left”

  1. Mandy Says:

    Hi MD

    I am glad that the teapot of human kindness was poured in your direction.

    It can seem rarer, these days, to get genuine care (and I mean from the heart rather than from a medical model) than to hang on to a job (let alone one worth having) but it is still alive in this world.

    People do care, although with the recession heading in a downward direction, I fear it will bring out the worst in people and it will end up dog eat dog (make that man eat man) but I hope that the best bits of being human remain.

    Am warmed by this posting of yours cos I feared for you and although i don’t know you that well, I like the fact you are still here and that people are showing you that you are important…cos you are.

    Now if you could just cure me of my fear of dentists…(all that probing, prodding, weird buzzy noises and pain) then all will be well-ish! :>)

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