On Wednesday, February 6th, I had to go back to the hospital to try again to do something that didn't happen on January 23rd. If you haven't got a clue what I'm on about at this point, the details of my previous hospital adventures can be found here : New Year's 'Wee've'.. and here : From Leek To No Leak.
Okay, on February 6th, I was asked to come back and 'POD', which is 'Piddle On Demand'. I was prepared this time. I knew the actual reason I was going to the hospital. So I topped myself up before departing to the hospital. Upon arrival and checking in, I headed straight to the drinks machine and had a few extra cups of water to complete my topping up process.
"Are you ready, Mr. Pennick?", inquired the nurse. "Um, can I have a few more minutes please?", I replied. "No problem. I'll come back in a few minutes", stated the nurse. The few minutes soon went by and off I went to the 'Piddle Room' to test my urinary flow. I thought to myself, "Yeah, I'll show that machine! Pretend I'm taking a leak on a robot, or think of waterfalls, or turn on a tap! That'll do it..." And then...and then....nothing happened, again! "Oh nurse! It aint happening.", I declared.
"Right then. We'll have to see how much fluid you have in your bladder by using the ultrasound.", explained the patient nurse. Finally, the reason I thought I was originally at the clinic, was actually happening. Yay, I was going to get some cold jelly on my belly!
After my ultrasound, which I can confirm indicates I'm not pregnant, some nurses had a deliberation about my situation. It turned out that a consultant was going to be seeing another outpatient and if I could stay around, he would find time to see me. I agreed and I waited for the consultant on a seat temptingly close to the toilets. While I waited, you guessed it, I had to go to the toilet twice in about ten minutes. Darn it!
The consultant was a very pleasant gentleman and he understood my 'bashful bladder' problem. While he explained what was going to be scheduled next, I had this incredible urge to go for another leak. Sitting there, smiling through gritted teeth, I listened to what was proposed.
They wanted me to have an MRI scan and a prostate biopsy. I would be informed of my appointments within about two weeks. On Friday, February 8th, I received a phone call from the secretary of my urologist. And just like that, I now have to go for an MRI scan on Tuesday morning, February 12th and a prostate biopsy on the afternoon of February 14th. Me thinks it's going to be one Valentine's Day I will not soon forget.
Then, oh yes, then, on the morning of February 15th, I have to go for a medical assessment. This would be a medical assessment done by a private 'healthcare' company working on behalf of the British government at a huge expense to the British tax payer. The agenda is to claim a significant proportion of those too sick to work, the vulnerable, those with mental health issues, are deemed fit to work and their disability benefits stopped. Oh the evil irony. Still, I can always remain standing during my assessment. "Sorry 'health professional', cannot sit down, I've a right pain in my ass!"
Yet, no matter what they try, I will not let them destroy my spirit, my passion to eliminate such injustice being imposed on so many desperate souls. And the NHS, the National Health Service, our treasured universal healthcare? They have treated me with respect, understanding and dignity. Something the immoral British government could learn from.
The photo of my eye. It has seen enough tears shed. Yet, the photo of my eye also has a vision of a kinder, caring, more compassionate world. My friend, my vision has been inspired by you.
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