What a day.
My appointment was at four. So at five to four I present myself at outpatients reception, same as usual... just for the befuddled receptionist to inform me that Head Honcho doesn't have a surgery in the hospital on Tuesdays, I should be in the psychiatric unit. She gave me long convoluted directions that took me past the morgue only for me to wind up in the psychiatric ward. Not the nicest place in the world to be when you're feeling fragile. There was no-one there - doctor wise - so I made my way back out to the cafe, collected dad and set him on the receptionist. Oh, no you're actually supposed to be at the mental health centre a mile back out the road, (even though the letter said HOSPITAL) so sorry! So off we trot... to get there and find that the hospital, who said they'd let them know we were coming, didn't, and Head Honcho had gone to the psychiatric unit... back at the hospital! So we went back to the hospital, and, after discovering that I couldn't have got though to this part of the hospital from inside anyway as the inner doors are kept locked (reassuring... not.), found him... and he increased my dosage by half a tablet daily.
Life is wonderful.
On the plus side, I was very decadent, bought two macroons, and two issues of this weeks radio times (one Ant cover, one Dec cover...) yes, I know, very sad! I'll read the Dec cover and keep the Ant one ;-)
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