Wednesday 16 March 2011

After taking a break from it for a few days, I listened to most of the new album today while walking from place to place in the sun. It's still all holding my attention, and lots of it is doing much more than that. In fact I really like it. We're aiming for a release by June, in time for our Aldeburgh Festival gig.  The new website is coming on a treat too, April for that one.

I was walking everywhere today because my pupils were artificially dilated after a morning visit to the eye clinic, and I didn't want to be visually impaired in charge of a bicycle. I've got used to the rhythm of these visits now: I wait for a while, get my vision tested, I get some eye drops put in, I wait for a long time, eventually I see a doctor who examines my eyes, and confers with the consultant, we agree a plan of action, I make my next appointment, and off I go. Today's was a bit more eventful, in that the consultant came in to see me briefly himself to check that I was happy with the plan, and then I went down the corridor to get the backs of my eyes photographed, which was quite fun. And all this time I've been dealt with by calm, capable and extremely busy professionals and their support staff. I love the NHS, and Andrew Lansley can, well, you can guess what he can do.

But ... I arrived early for my 10.45 clinic appointment, and at 12.35 I still hadn't seen a doctor: so why was my appointment at 10.45? On my way out after 1pm, as I was making my next appointment, the client/customer/patient next to me was asking what she could do if for any reason she had to change the time she was given: there's no way of contacting the department except on a phone number, which just rings out. 'Yes, it's that phone,' said the receptionist pointing to it, 'so if we're busy, there's no way of contacting us. The best thing to do is come in, but you live in Helensburgh, don't you?' That's 20 miles away. 'So if some disaster happens and I have to miss my appointment in six months' time, and I have no way to give you notice of this, what happens?' 'You get a DNA - Did Not Attend. And that's the end of it. (pause) We only work here.' Incredulous silence followed. Now, I live across the road from the hospital and can pop in pretty much whenever I want, so on balance I do very well out of this shocking absence of management and customer service, but if I lived 20 miles away and my eyesight depended on the service that I got, I might be less relaxed about it.