Four o'clock Friday afternoon, starting to pack ready to go away for the bank holiday weekend (with a bit of extra holiday tagged on) and what's the most important thing of all to pack? My Glivec of course, those lovely, little, brown, magic tablets that live on the dining room table to help me remember to take them. A quiet day working from home, looking forward to going away, stress level 0.2%.
Only three tablets left in that particular blister pack, but that's okay because there's another pack in the box. There's another pack in the box. I know there's another pack in the box. I'm sure there was another pack in the box. Stare into empty box. Turn it upside down and shake it just in case they are there, but temporarily invisible. Stress level 3.8%.
Go to medicine cupboard to get next box. Can't see them. Stress level 139.6%. Search thoruoughly through medicine cupboard. Get chair to stand on to search through medicine cupboard. Scream. Stress level 18,365.4%
Call doctor's secretary to find out why I've heard nothing about my prescription since talking to doctor 2 weeks earlier. '... is not available and you cannot leave a message after the tone. Please call back later' Stress level 26,872%. Call main hospital switchboard and ask to be put through. '... is not available and you cannot leave a message after the tone. Please call back later' Stress meter goes critical.
Call hospital pharmacy (who normally call me to tell me my drugs are ready for collection). Sorry, you need the chemotherapy department, we'll put you through. Sorry, no, we don't have a prescription for you - we have't received anything from Dr xxx. Which day did she write it? Refrain from screaming ' how the @!$£%£ £$"% should I know!'
Stress meter starts to flash and klaxons go off.
We'll take your number and call you back.
Neighbouring villages evacuated by emergency services who fear stress meter will go into meltdown and take out all life for a radius of several miles.
Phone goes. Trample childrens' toys, furniture, etc to get to it.
Mr Bxxx? Yes.
It's so and so from Sx hospital pharmacy. Yes (I know, I recognise the voice, get on with it!)
We spoke earlier Yes. (get on with it!!!)
About your prescription for, pause to refer to notes, Glivec. Yes (get on with it before I tear your leg off and beat you to death with the wet end)
We did get your prescription 2 weeks ago. (Yippee!!!!)
We filled it and sent it to your GP's practice. Silence
And why exactly did you do that when you haven't done it in the last 2 years?
We always do it.
No you don't, someone always calls me and I come and collect it from the hospital pharmacy.
That's strange. I never call you. I wonder who does?
Drive like mad thing to surgery to get there before it closes for the long weekend.
Queue up at dispensary.
Get back in car
Stop to buy doughnuts on way home.