It's Nice To Be Read

I woke up this morning feeling more like my usual self; the room didn't start spinning the moment I sat up in bed, and I managed to get to the loo without having to hold on to the wall for support. So today I am going to go for a walk to get some exercise (something that I haven't been able to do for a week) and then I am going to sit down and finish the TMA for my current OU course. It should only take me a couple of hours and it will be great to have it done and sent off.

Thanks to the Jobbing Doctor I have had a lot of people read my blog over the last 24 hours, and a couple of people have made very nice comments about my writing. As I said in my very first post I have no real reason for writing this blog other than as a means to "vent my spleen" at things that annoy me, or to relate things that happen in my generally very dull life.

It's nice making friends, isn't it?

A Relatively Good Day

Today has been a relatively good day for me. I'm feeling a lot better now the world isn't constantly spinning around me, I've cooked myself a meal for the first time in about five days, and I found out today that there are people out there who have read my blog.

The Jobbing Doctor kindly gave me a mention today and lots of his readers have made an effort and had a look at what I had to say. It is quite gratifying to know that someone has read what I have written, and thought it worthy of highlighting to others. This is one of the nicest things that has happened to me for a very long time, and it has given me the encouragement that I needed to keep writing my ramblings in the hope that they may inform, entertain or amuse.

No Longer On My Hands And Knees

For the first time for nearly a week I am able to walk around the house without too much fear of falling over. My labyrinthitis seems to be improving, but having had it before I am well aware that it may flare up again, so I won't count my chickens before they're hatched. No matter, it is nice to be able to walk around without having to hold on to the walls, or while it was at its worst on my hands and knees. That is one of the problems of living on my own.

Meals have been very basic for the last few days, but as I am now able to stand unaided I am going to be able to cook something for myself tonight. Oh, joy!

Chatting With The Bride

I have just had a brief conversation with my god-daughter on the phone; she had a lovely day yesterday, but she thought that the day passed so quickly after what had seemed like an interminable time for the great day to arrive.

My problem (apart from having to miss the big day) is that I have difficulty thinking of her as an adult; to me she still seems to be a little girl. She is a sweetheart, who not so long ago admitted to me that she was sorry that she had not worked a bit harder at school, but was still happy with her life and the choices that she had made. And so she should be. She is a partner in a business that has been busy from the day that it opened its doors almost a year ago, her new husband is a great lad who also has his own business, and the pair of them have been together for about 10 years now, so their love for each other must be on a fairly firm footing.

I have been promised an early viewing of the wedding video and copies of lots of photographs so that it will seem that I was there instead of lying on my sickbed with the world spinning around. It won't of course, but it will have to do, and she does at least know how much I love her and that I was thinking of her as she made her vows and became a Mrs.

I'm Feeling Sad

It's not a good day today. No, it's not a really bad day with the depression; in some respects it's worse than that. My god-daughter is getting married today and I can't be there because I have labyrinthitis, which means I can't drive to where the wedding is and I can't stand up without falling over. I can only stop the room from spinning by lying down flat, although I can sit up a little if carefully propped by pillows.

So what am I going to do when I should be enjoying myself at a wedding that I have been looking forward to for so long? I shall be lying in bed watching one DVD after another, or reading a book (though I don't think it will be my OU course book), or maybe even having a nap to pass the time.

Not really how I intended to spend today!

In Sympathy With The Medical Profession

I am not a doctor (I'm not clever enough and I'm too old to try now) but I find it very interesting, and often very amusing, to read the blogs of the Jobbing Doctor and a number of the other doctors who regularly give us their point of view on things medical and that pertain to the medical world. Over the last week there have been a number of posts from these caring professionals dealing with the Darzi Report as well as the wholesale GP-bashing that seems to be going on at the moment.

As a member of the general public who has the need to consult a doctor on a regular basis, I would like to say how much I sympathise with the doctors in this country and the horrendous attacks that are being made on them by people who really should know better. I was with my last GP for about 15 years and he knew me very well; he helped me through the grieving process when my husband died very suddenly, and he supported me through a number of major illnesses, which eventually led to my having to take medical retirement. My move from Cambridgeshire coincided with this wonderful GP taking early retirement because he was fed up with the way that this government were treating doctors, and GPs in particular. So having moved to London, I had to find myself a new GP and I was lucky because I found one who has been very kind and helpful over the last year. Unfortunately this new GP is retiring in just a few weeks, again pretty much as a result of the GP-bashing that this government seems to be so keen on.

Why am I commenting on this? Well, as someone with a very complex medical history (which has all happened in the last 10 years) it is important to me that I have a GP with whom I can develop a good relationship so that it is not necessary to go through my complete medical history each time I have an appointment. What worries me is that this situation could very likely be what is facing us if Lord Darzi, the Government, and the CBI get their way.

One thing that the NHS will never be is a business; it is a service and should be treated as such. Yes, we should be entitled to expect certain standards, and with the right support the NHS can meet those standards, but if Government is constantly moving the goalposts, it is understandable that doctors will become disenchanted and feel less inclined, as well as being less able, to provide the service that they so obviously want to.

So, I am happy to stand up and be counted. I want to stand with the doctors and say to the Government, "Keep your hands off our GP practices, stop trying to privatise something that needs to remain in the public sector if it is to continue helping those of us on low incomes who can't afford private medical insurance or with complex medical problems that require regular contact with the same doctor for continuity of treatment".

Losing Track of Time or Losing My Mind?

One of the things that I have found most difficult to cope with since I had to give up work is keeping track of time and in particular which day of the week it is. Most people who suffer from depression will tell you how important it is to keep to some sort of a routine, but when you can't remember what day of the week it is, then it really can be a bit of a problem.

So one of the ways that I remember which day it is is to look for a television programme that only occurs on a particular day of the week. Yesterday was Saturday; I know that because Doctor Who was on BBC One (I know there are repeats during the week but they are on BBC Three). But that hasn't stopped me thinking it was Saturday today.

Now I know that seven days haven't passed, so why have I kept thinking today was Saturday? Is it really just a case of me losing track of time, or is this the start of me losing my mind?

Doctor Who Withdrawal

I love Doctor Who. No, not in the "let's get married" sort of way; more a case of "the best television series ever" kind of love affair. But in little over an hour the current series will be ending, and I am going to have to do cold turkey until 2010.

Yes, I know that there are going to be repeats, and there is the promise of the specials for next year, but I love the 13 weeks of continuous new stories that we have been having for the last few years.

I'm old enough to remember watching the original Doctor Who; I remember persuading my parents that we had to watch it after all the preceding hullaballoo that there had been. We did watch it, and I was an afficianado from the first. I went off it a bit after Peter Davison, and when the new Russell T Davies Doctor Who started I thought that I was too old to watch such a programme. So I missed Series One, and I didn't watch Series Two either, but then they started showing repeats of both series on BBC Three and I became hooked. Friday night I would sit down to watch and be entranced for an hour (I watched Doctor Who Confidential too).

So tonight I will sit down with a drink (Diet Coke, I'm not allowed anything stronger) and I shall pass 90 minutes in the company of a group of people who have reawakened my love of a fictional character. Doctor Who, I will miss you, but I hope that however you are reincarnated when you come back you will maintain the joie de vivre that Russell T has brought to you.

Bad Days and Worse Days

Like anyone who suffers from depression, my life isn't always a bowl of cherries. I don't have good days and bad days, rather it's bad days and worse days, but every now and again something happens that lifts my spirits and I feel as though life is worth living after all. And the strange thing is, it can be very little things that make the difference.

I've been going through a really bad period just recently, and while I'm not out of the woods yet, I am managing to hang on in there and I am aware that this feeling won't go on forever. Trying to find things to do that allow me to keep my mind active, but that don't require too high a degree of concentration is always a bit of a problem, and when I can get back to studying is always an indicator that things are improving. And I am just getting to that stage at the moment. After a couple of weeks where I have been wanting to write an essay for the TMA for the Open University course that I am doing at the moment, but have been totally incapable of doing anything about it, I am finally feeling as though I can have a go and hopefully write something of which I can be reasonably proud.

I first started studying with the Open University just over a year after my husband died. His death was very sudden, and somewhat unsurprisingly I started to suffer from depression. A year after my husband died I had to go into hospital for major surgery, and it was about this time that two very important people in my life, my GP, and a very old friend and work colleague, both suggested that I ought to find something to fill the empty hours in my life. Now I'm not sure what these two splendid chaps had in mind (probably flower arranging or learning a language perhaps) when they made their suggestions (they both spoke to me within a couple of days of each other) but doing a degree with the Open University was not quite what they envisaged. For some reason while I was lying in my hospital bed it seemed to me that this was the most obvious thing in the world.

The OU proved to be a lifesaver for me. I had a demanding job with a lot of responsibility and having something that I could turn to for a change of pace helped me to get through the empty evenings. Forcing myself to get into a routine of coming home from work, quickly getting myself an evening meal, and then sitting down for a couple of hours with the books became a way of life, and one that I shall never regret. Sometimes the completion of the TMAs (tutor marked assignments) was a problem and I had to ask for a deferment of the submission date from my tutor, but I usually managed to complete them on time. At about the time that I completed my BSc (Hons) I had to give up work on medical grounds as my depression had got much worse, I was suffering increasingly from severe anxiety attacks, and I had lost all confidence in my ability to do anything and everything.

So you can probably understand why I am so concerned that now that I am not working I am having so much of a problem answering a reasonably simple question in approximately 1000 words including references (no chance of me being accused of plagiarism). Writing detailed reports of a technical nature was what I did when I was working, and being acknowledged as having a good command of the English Language, both orally and in writing, I seem to be making a mountain out of a molehill over this particular TMA. And what makes it all the more strange is that this is one of the OU's Openings courses, the simplest that they do, and I have previously done some studying at Master's level and got good marks for it.

So, as I said earlier, after a month or so of feeling absolutely desperate and having very little sleep, I am starting to feel a little more human again, and actually keen to get back to the essay writing and the book reading. So tomorrow is going to be a day of sitting in a comfortable chair (I think better that way) with pad and pencil and hopefully enough of my previous reading will still be in my memory and the essay will flow onto the page. After all these years I still like to sit down with a pad to write my first draft because I find that it suits me; I also find that I can write at the same speed that I think whereas I can type faster than my brain seems to put the words together.

And what has allowed me to turn the corner? I managed to have a full night's sleep. Yes, a full eight hours. No problems dropping off, no waking after a couple of hours sleep and then being unable to get back to sleep.

To paraphrase a song, "What a difference a night makes".

A Patient's View of Darzi et al

I am probably one of the few non-medical, non-journalist types to have read the much heralded report from Lord Darzi, but I am also reasonably sure that I will not be the only person to read it and end up thinking "What is it all about?" I admit that there were some areas that I skim read, whilst there were others that I read in detail, even going back to reread them to make sure that I hadn't misunderstood what was being said. The Jobbing Doctor, who is one of my blog favourites and has already made a number of posts on the report, doesn't seem to be too impressed. And I can't blame him. As a classic example of mean-nothing doublespeak, this report is brilliant.

This is supposed to be putting forward something that will benefit the population of England for the next 10 years, I was unable to find anything that told me what was actually going to happen other than the fact that drugs would get faster NICE approval, and this had already been announced, and that I would have the right to choose my GP, not only which practice I joined, but also which doctor in that practice I could ask to see. Now correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought I was already able to choose which practice I joined, within certain constraints to be sure, and up until a few years ago I could ask to join the list of a particular doctor within that practice.

I consider myself to be reasonably intelligent, I have studied in my own time for a degree while holding down a very responsible job, and I hope that I have a reasonable command of the English language, but I had problems understanding what this report was trying to say. Some years ago there was a push to make sure that important information was put forward in clear language, that anyone could understand. This report fails to meet that criteria. Why do I find this so worrying? Well the NHS is something that affects all our lives and we ought to be able to have a say in what we want. This report claims that the views of patients and NHS staff have been taken into consideration in making the proposals for the future, but we still have things put forward that are not necessarily what the patients (or even the NHS staff) want. Having moved back to London after living in another part of the country for 30 years, I decided that I would try to integrate back into the community and one of the ways in which I thought I could do this was to join the Patient Panel at my GP Surgery. We don't meet very often, but we do thrash out matters quite carefully, and we got agreement for the practice to offer some late evening and Saturday appointments before the government decided to impose this on GPs with threats of funding cuts. We also discussed and agreed to changes in the way that the practice operated its Duty Doctor rota with the result that the practice can now offer a significant number of additional appointments each week. This was achieved through thoughtful discussion, everyone's point of view being listened to, and compromise where it was necessary.

The NHS will never be perfect, will never meet everybody's dreams of what such a service should be, but there must be ways of providing an efficient service that meets the needs of the vast majority without introducing extra layers of service which will be costly and only be pandering to a small section of the population. Why put large sums of money into polyclinics (in London) and heath centres in other areas of the country to help a few people who don't want to take time off work to see a doctor, when that money could be put to use in the NHS that already exists and does a pretty good job as far as I am concerned. I've always understood that the way to get the best out of anything or anyone, is to ensure that the best use of the money available is made and that it should not be wasted on infrastructure and manpower that does not enhance the service provided. In other words, IF IT'S NOT BROKEN, DON'T FIX IT.