Ugh. Such frustration!
I have a sore back. You know, it's not dramatic. It's probably a wrenched muscle or a trapped nerve, but last night it was sore enough to give me the "what if it's my kidney? Should I go to A&E?" angst. I didn't, obviously. But I did go to the GP today.
You probably remember the herniated disc, last year. When I didn't really talk about my GP experience. But after the London to Brighton bike ride, I'd obviously done myself a damage. My right hand stopped working, which is a problem when you're right handed. My neck hurt. I had shooting pins and needles down my right arm. Having left it 3 or 4 weeks to see if it was just one of those sporting things which gets better on its own, I went to the GP. I saw the woman doctor, which is usually a plus sign for me. Without leaving her chair, touching my hand, asking me to take my coat off so she could see my arm, she wrote me a prescription. Well, two. One for a non-steroidal anti-inflammatory. Fair enough. And one for temazepam. Now, I'm the first to admit I'm a little neurotic, but really! So I pushed that prescription back across the desk to her, and told her I didn't want it. She looked puzzled, and rather affronted and asked why not. I explained that (a) I have lived with addiction - albeit not my own - for long enough, and have no wish to open my door to it again; and (b) I am a single mother to 3 children, and it is therefore important that I am as compus mentis as possible in a crisis. My understanding of tranquillisers is that they don't walk hand in hand with compus mentis, and therefore I felt it was irresponsible to take it. Oh, don't be silly! She laughed. No, no. I'm deadly serious. I replied. And promptly burst into tears, because I was cross. I wouldn't dream of giving you an addictive dose! She snorfled. I won't dream of taking *any* dose, I sniffed. We pushed the prescription back and forth across her desk between us for a couple more sallies of this before I left her office, leaving the tranx script behind me.
Later, I spoke to my Uncle who is a general surgeon and a bigwig at the BMC. He was outraged, and rang the GP to press for a more sensible treatment, involving referral to a neurosurgeon as a matter of urgency. The rest you know, and suffice to say that my hand is still not what it was before the bike ride, and I'm told it never will be again. That's not the GP's fault in any way; I should have gone to someone more quickly. But tranquillisers were never going to be an appropriate treatment regime for a suspected herniated disc, and delaying the treatment process by the length of time it would have taken her to realise this would have run the risk of even more lasting damage...
What has this to do with my sore back today? Well, nothing per se. Today I went in simply to get the kidney angle investigated. Same GP (my fault. I should have checked.). I sat down, and said "I have a sore back. I suspect I'm being a bit feeble, but I want to check it isn't my kidney".
"Where do you feel it?" She asked
I rubbed my right lower back, just over the kidney area. "Here. It's a sharp pain, constant but increasing on an inbreath. It's difficult to move away from."
"Are you having any discomfort when you pee? Or open your bowels?"
"No"
"OK, well I'll give you something that will help, and if it's not any better in a week, come back"
Again, no move to actually *look* at the area, much less examine it. No palpation. No urine dip. No nothing. She tappety tapped on her keyboard, announced that she would also renew the prescription for my psoriasis ("Do you want to look at it?" I asked. "No, I can see you have a long history of it" she responded), and handed over 3 prescriptions.
I didn't look at them until I was out of the door. One psoriasis drug (larger tube. Good). One non-steroidal anti-inflammatory. And Diazepam. For fuck's sake!! So I went to the chemist, gave them the first two scripts to fill, and asked them to destroy the third.
Now I've done a search on diazepam to see what prescription guidelines there are: it seems she's allowed to give it to me for muscle spasm, as long as she doesn't give me more than 4 weeks' worth. But she's supposed to tell me it makes me drowsy (has a half life in the bloodstream of 8 days, apparently! 8 days!!! Jesus. I'd be catatonic for a fortnight!). She's supposed to tell me not to take it if I have kidney problems. Hello. That's what I went to see her to find out! She's supposed to find out if I'm on other drugs, or breastfeeding, or or or.... not just push a script across a desk without a word.
So, after the chemist I went to the other local practice to see if I could re-register there. They're closed to new patients at the moment, but suggested I write to the practice manager, since I live so close.
And I'm writing this in lieu of a letter to the GMC or the Family Practitioner Committee or similar. I think it's so irresponsible!! Particularly after I'd forcibly expressed my opinion the last time she tried to prescribe me them!
OK. That is now officially off my chest. I wonder what the rate of tranquilliser addiction in Whitnash is....
