PTSD, I has it.

I have a leak in the pipe that brings the water into my house AFTER the stopcock .. so my responsibility. I have some money so I can pay the bill, just.

Last problem with water was November 2007 when the Central Heating went down and I discovered the Compliment slip from Dr RB John. SO I know think about the time I found it AND all the shit that slip caused.

The time before was in November 1993 when an internal pipe sprung a leak and the place got flooded. A neighbour saw water coming out the house and called me at work. Mum had just died so I sped to the house, picking up a plumber on the way. I “kidnapped” one I saw on the way to the house. I dropped him of at Mum’s and went to my house to get some tools and caught my wife with her new “boyfriend”. No real proof at the time BUT boy did that man shit himself making it obvious to me that SOMETHING was wrong BUT I had an emergency so had to go.

And so started the catalogue of events that lead to the mess I am in now. My divorce started that night. Or at least the arguments did. I was eventually kicked out of the marital home on March 1st 1994.

SO my head has been spinning as all the memories keep flooding back. All the horrors of that time FLOOD back.

AND THEN I get flashbacks about the flood in my practice AGAIN in October/November but this time 1997. which lead to all the other lies and deceit from the doctors in Neath.


Then I was woken last night with AWFUL cramps in both my legs and so I “stomped” around the house as the pains eventually disappeared. SO do I ring Castle Surgery for an appointment and get the inferior treatment they provide because EVERY question I ask them they ignore or “skate over”? Either that or I am refused ANY form of treatment.

For example I saw Dr Gama on 27th July and was promised, after much pleading from me, an emergency appointment within 2 weeks/ 14 days, with a counsellor to try and help me come to terms with all this. BUT no appointment has been received. BUT then it took NINE MONTHS to get ANY form of reassurance about a suggested misdiagnosis of my heart and circulatory systems. AND that time when I asked about my heart I was sent to the Psychiatric unit as an ungrateful patient.


Dr RB John was in Neath recently all dressed up in his robes as he performed some shit as The High Sheriff of West Glamorgan. He was spotted by a friend of mine and described as looking like a character out of Sesame Street. Except he said Dr RB John looked SO proud of himself it looked like he had his head up his own arse, rather than a hand, as in the puppets.

He is a self made man and worships his maker.




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