What fresh hell is this?

I was having a perfectly delightful Friday evening. H met me at work, and we went out to dinner, and then we wandered about town looking for a pub with one or two square feet of space in so we could have a drink, and then we went to the theatre – Spamalot, thank you for asking, and yes it was extremely silly and yes I did laugh like a drain throughout, and go home cheerfully shouting ‘strange women lyin’ in ponds distributin’ swords is no basis for a system of government!’, luckily only at H.

There were two medical-in-appearance envelopes waiting in the post box when we got back. Ah ha! said I. I bet these are from Miss Consultant, telling me the information I finally begged, pleaded, nagged, cajoled and fussed and eventually revealed details of my menstrual cycle to her secretary for! In that, yes, she’s not too bothered about the fallopian tube (‘ray!’), so do the three cycles of Clomid (‘ray!) and she’ll see me in February (‘ray! Not that we’ll have finished with the Clomid by then, but ‘ray! anyway) because she thinks I might have a fibroid (‘ray – no, wait, what? What?).


I opened envelope 1. Come and have a smear test! its contents demanded cheerily. Oh. OK.

I opened envelope 2. ‘Because you did not answer our previous letter within 14 days, we have taken you off the IVF waiting list. If you think there has been a mistake or you still want treatment, please get your GP to re-refer you.’

FUCK, I bellowed, frightening the horses in the next county.

Look, you tomfool list-managing person, we never received any such previous letter at all. We did not. So we couldn’t answer it. Could we. No. We could not. I work in a library. When we wish to contact our patrons over fines and books they really should give back, we email them three times, attempt a phone call if none of those produce a response, and finish it up with two (2) Official Scary Letters before giving up on them. And this over mere, faffy, not-very-grand-in-the-grand-scheme-of-things £2 LIBRARY FINES. You, of list-managing duties for HUGE GREAT FUCK-OFF-BIG-HAIRY-DEAL things like IVF, can’t manage a simple check that we got the letter before flicking us off pitch. You suck. You suck so very very much. You, and your stupid bureaucratic systems, designed to make life nice and easy for you and your staff, with absolutely no thought or care or safety net, for any mistake or postal-service hiccough, you, playing one-strike-and-you’re-out with people’s deepest hopes and dreams, you not even giving us a contact number so we can call your team and say ‘but we never got the letter’ but instead making us get a re-referral when we’d already been on the 2-and-a-half year waiting list for a year and nearly a half, you, you, you… ARGH.

I pay a lot of taxes to the NHS. I am happy to do this. The NHS is bureacratic, slow, occasionally staffed by idiots, scruffy, and slightly deranged, but it is there, safely there. I can come down with the complicated illness of my choice and the NHS will scoop me up, diagnose me, medicate me, and patch me together again as best it can. It will not charge me for the hospital bed, or discover my insurance doesn’t cover the treatment, or make me wait in an Accident and Emergency room while some officious little shit phones around making sure I have insurance at all before transferring me to a ward. It will not refuse to treat my cancer for free the day I turn 18. It will not refuse to treat my infertility while ladling viagra out to elderly men like smarties. And what is most wonderful, it will do this for everyone. All residents in Britain are covered by the same safety-net, rich or poor, educated or illiterate, terminally arsey or lovely and polite. And this, dear God, is WONDERFUL.

Until they pull a stunt like this on you.

Anyway. Must see GP. Must write (hopeless gesture, no doubt) to list managing person and patient complaint service explaining situation with no swear-words or insults, because even if it doesn’t help me it might help someone in the future. Must try not to worry and fret, as tube is not fatally cucumbered and IVF might not be necessary anyway. Must remember that I have saved and saved and have a little more money than I realised and I can afford one go and my mother has offered to help financially if IVF should become only option. Must, above all, not let this ruin my Christmas.

Must not cry.

This must be the one time I am positively encouraging myself to obsess over my two-week-wait symptoms, to keep my mind off the dear old NHS and its lovely little fucktard ways.

*pokes self in boobs*


19 responses to “What fresh hell is this?

  • Aphra Behn

    Darling, if you had to pick two of the six things on your list to be shitey, which two would it be?

    But *hug* – because what we all want for May is for all six to be peachy. In fact, what we all want for May is for there not to be a list of worrisome things at all.

    If it were me, I don’t think I could cope. Here. Here’s another *hug*.


    PS – Doctors’ secretaries are either wonderful, or they have got high marks in advanced exams in arsiness. Well known fact.

  • Solnushka

    They did WHAT? No! Good flaming God! Bleep bleep bleepity bleep.

    I suppose it’s no consolation that you are very eloquent in print, so if anyone can get them to see the error of their ways it’s you. No. Because you shouldn’t have to deal with this.

    *Gestures rudely in the directionm of a specific section of the NHS*

    But hoorah for your consultant’s secratary and her news.

  • womb for improvement

    Jesus! I can’t believe they would do such a thing (actually, unfortunately, I can but this puts my dealings with the NHS into perspective). Of course you’ll get the first letter probably on … um … Thursday. Good luck getting them to get you back on the list – at the same level.

  • geohde

    Oh, yes. The bleeping NHS.

    The only health service in the world requird to treat it’s patrons for injuries caused by it’s own red tape.


  • Nina

    I’m so sorry, hon. Maybe you can get through with your letter. Maybe you can start at the bottom and work your way to the top, office by office and get the phone numbers from each of them. This will require telling your story a lot, but maybe you can get back on the list that way? I’m out of ideas. Good Luck!!

  • Anonymous

    I´ve read your blog for a while and I have to say that if you don´t quit drinking everytime you turn around, you will never get pregnant…

  • korechronicles

    OMG! OMG! OMG! *Deep breath* Listen here, gutless and judgemental Anonymous commenter. If there were any strong links between the consumption of alcohol and pregnancy no alcoholics would ever get pregnant. And May only said that she went to a pub for a drink which might have been a lemon squash or a mineral water for all you know. So take your nasty little typing finger and small mind off to bitch elsewhere. This is not a place where your narrow mindedness is asked for or welcomed. *Even bigger deep breath*
    Dear May…FAAARRRKKKK. They took you off the waiting list? Without a follow up phone call? That is just utter madness. I’m totally with Nina here…start at the bottom, ask to them to give you the number of the person next up the ladder while telling them you will be sure to pass on how helpful they have been to you** and keep going until you get to the person who took you off and can put you back on the list. Might need you to take a whole day off to do it but worth a try.

    ** Helpful tip given to me in a course on getting what you want from service persons. Works like bloody magic spell.

    Big hugs from here.

  • Hairy Farmer Family

    Oh, DARLING! You have officially ARRIVED! You have attracted your VERY OWN LITTLE TROLL! You do realise that this means that the entire Blogosphere is now your oyster? There’ll be no stopping you now; in fact, move over Dooce, because May is coming through on the path to super-stardom, fame and fortune. Waving that ubiquitous bottle of hooch as you come, I don’t doubt. I do congratulate you most sincerely on your new flamey acquisition, and I very much wish I had one quite so nice – it appears it can even spell, although the odd punctuation spacing does actually suggest it might have been on the pop a bit itself.

    I am so mightily jealous. No-one even thinks I’m worth taking a pop at!

  • Hairy Farmer Family

    I suggest that you get your GP to shout and bellow at the relevant department. The good ones do get awfully annoyed when their patients are fucked about like this, and he/she (are you still with Moustache-Man?) will at least be able to out-rank the moronic little streak of NHS piss that has done this to you.

    I know I don’t have to tell you again about the trailerload of proverbial – you know it’s yours to command. But I just thought I’d mention that there’s a lot of it being carted about at HF farm currently. Even Harry will toddle down the M40 with a wheelbarrow brim-full if you say the word.

  • Solnushka

    *Howls with laughter at the thought that May’s exceptionally moderate alcohol intake could have anything to do with anything.*

    Really, if one is going to be mean, one should at least try to find something that might actually be relevant.

    Still, I agree with HFF. Nobody ever thinks I’m worthy of trolling. *Sulk*

  • Jane G

    That’s told you proper, you wanton booze hag you!

    Anyway, as regards the NHS. Jesus H Christ, what are they like? Can your GP stamp his feet and get you reinstated in the place you were at in the waiting list. There is no way that you should lose your place just because of their incompetency.

    I read your comment on my blog, I hope the temp charts are an indication of good news. Keeping everything crossed for you petal x

  • Xbox4NappyRash

    I would lose it completely if I had been you.

    I agree with others, get your GP to sort it, or burn his house down.

  • B. Mare

    Ah, your very own troll for Christmas. Just what we all have been wanting! Seriously, though, Anon, do shut the fuck up with that kind of misinformed tripe. As it happens, the month I finally did get pregnant, the only thing I was doing differently was working my merry way through a case of pre-Christmas wine. More drinking that month than in a long time. It was rellllaaaxxxing.

    I’m quite appalled that they are taking people off the list. Why do that? Shouldn’t it be, if we don’t hear you are pregnant or otherwise no longer interested, you’ll be on the list until there is a slot? I am wondering if they were contacting you to tell you there was a place- I got the call about two years into the three year wait. Of course, I was seven months pregnant at the time, so politely declined. But if you can get to the bottom of it (and get re-instated at the same place), there may actually be good news for you…

  • moira


    My first comment to say … what the f*ck!!

    is this some new way to cut down on NHS waiting lists? Pretend (nicer that lie) that a letter has been sent and stike em off!!

    god, as someone who is too old for NHS and is going private all my thoughts are with you!

  • moira

    OK, first comment one then another right after that – just read anonymous. WHO THE F**K ARE YOU?

    You drink all you want, need, can afford … etc


  • Ooh, now, seriously mixed nuts « Nuts in May

    […] hankies, There is a husband, Tom-fool nonsense, We are not alone — May @ 10:49 pm Item: Ooh, look, a troll! A teeny wee troll of my own! More of a gonk, really, don’t you think? I read that dear little comment this morning, […]

  • a

    That anonymous comment – ROFL. What an ass.

    I don’t know how NHS works, but I would be working the phone until I got myself not only back on the list, but up to the top for all the trouble they caused. But, good advice from others to get your GP to do it. They ought to know the phone numbers to call. Good luck. But, now at least you know why people “go postal.”

  • deanna

    Oh, DAMN….damn, damn, damnit.

    I swear, the red-tape bullshit of infertility almost sucks worse than the condition itself.

    Kick some ass, May!

  • Make of this what you will « Nuts in May

    […] Needles and pins, There is a husband, Tom-fool nonsense — May @ 9:23 am Back in December, the NHS and I had a brief contretemps about letters, the sending of not equating the receiving of, and they could have checked before flicking us […]

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