Categories
Post

A horrid hospital appointment…

Yesterday afternoon, late, I had an appointment with a consultant of respiratory problems. It was a very unpleasant experience, not least because of the doctor’s manner.

I think he made assumptions as soon as I walked in to the room. He didn’t want to hear anything I had to say. He just summed everything up by how my chest looks now, nothing about the last five years.

I left the hospital feeling despair. I’m lined up for tests I will not be able to tolerate. The consultant dismissed my problems with a patronising and ignorant comment. I mean ignorant as in dismissive, lacking knowledge and understanding.

I got home and made a phone appointment with my GP. Then my daughter and I had a terrible row, and I ended up drinking a glass of wine, completely unable to relax. I watched the fireworks from my window, boats were blowing their horns. I responded to one text only.

I don’t know what time I awoke this morning, I dozed. I’ve ignored texts and messages. I know I’ve blown it with my daughter, although she doesn’t exactly smell of roses just now either.

I don’t know why I am so down. I was confronted by how ugly my body is yet again. I wish I had never survived the four brain surgeries. No doctor understands anything about my condition. I married the wrong man. I have failed as a mother. I feel so surplus to requirements, so useless and unknown.

I am in a very dark place right now.

By Chrisssie Morris Brady

I've read poetry since I was nine and have written creatively since I was fourteen (probably long before that). After writing book reviews and social comment, I decided I wanted to write poetry. I have no formal training, but I surround myself with poets and their writing. I am honing my craft.
I have two published collections which I don't feel good about, but have been published by madswirl.com and other publications. I live on the south coast of England with my daughter. I am seriously ill.

2 replies on “A horrid hospital appointment…”

I’m so sorry. I’m here if you need to talk. You’ll get through this. You’ve survived everything so far. Your daughter lives you, and you love her. You’ll find a way through. 😘

Like

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.