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Apr. 8th, 2009 04:22 pmThe medical assessment was OK, if a bit weird.
There were many people waiting for assessments. I went up to the reception kiosk and gave them my letter and asked about getting my taxi fare reimbursed, they said no we don't do taxis unless it's been prearranged with your GP, to which I said actually I was told on the phone and also it says in the leaflet you sent out that it's otherwise at the discretion of the doctor and I figured cartilage damage would cut it. So taxi fare will be reimbured, which is good. There was a long delay of about an hour and a quarter, which was getting everybody quite annoyed, not made better by the receptionists telling every new person that the delay was because everyone was taking more than their allotted time. Mm-hmm. The waiting room was yet another dreary room with a fake shrub in the corner. There were three magazines, all on a single coffee table in the middle of the room just far enough away from everyone that it wasn't useful to anyone. No water cooler or anything. Also fire doors a go go which are evil contraptions made to make people with crutches trip over. As for the people, some it was quite clear were ill but one lad limped when called by the doctor but was fine on the way in and out, others you couldn't tell either way.
The doctor himself seemed like he had studied at the University of the Internet or something. He was unshaven and had big dark circles under his eyes and kept rubbing his face as if he'd just had the longest night in existence and now I was here purely to exact revenge upon him by babbling about my injury. He first asked me if I suffered from mental illness, to which I said no (true, by the way, can you believe it!) and then "So what *is* wrong with you?" So I explained it and what I'm capable of and what has done about it so far and that I need to have an arthroscopy and there's a 12 week waiting list, to which he asked will you need surgery and where do you see yourself in 3 months (um) and then he asked me about my hopes and dreams, hobbies, friends. He also asked me what help I need to get back to work, so I replied "Surgery! That would be nice!" and then tried to explain the problem that even if you ignore transport problems I still need to do my exercises throughout the day as and when the and get to the gym and that's already a very delicate balance. He looked somewhat exasperated. Then he told me to wiggle my leg a bit and off I went.
My overall impression is that he was not very competent and I'm not sure what he'll say in the report (he is the guy who could tell the DWP I can work). I say incompetent because he seemed to be reading questions from a list even though I'd answered them already so ended up repeating myself, and he didn't know what an arthroscopy was. *You* may not know what an arthroscopy is but he is a doctor and probably sees about 100 injured/sick people every day. I'll find out in 3 weeks if I get more money or shafted.
You know what I hate? The washing machine upstairs when it's on a spin cycle. One day it will actually make my head explode.
There were many people waiting for assessments. I went up to the reception kiosk and gave them my letter and asked about getting my taxi fare reimbursed, they said no we don't do taxis unless it's been prearranged with your GP, to which I said actually I was told on the phone and also it says in the leaflet you sent out that it's otherwise at the discretion of the doctor and I figured cartilage damage would cut it. So taxi fare will be reimbured, which is good. There was a long delay of about an hour and a quarter, which was getting everybody quite annoyed, not made better by the receptionists telling every new person that the delay was because everyone was taking more than their allotted time. Mm-hmm. The waiting room was yet another dreary room with a fake shrub in the corner. There were three magazines, all on a single coffee table in the middle of the room just far enough away from everyone that it wasn't useful to anyone. No water cooler or anything. Also fire doors a go go which are evil contraptions made to make people with crutches trip over. As for the people, some it was quite clear were ill but one lad limped when called by the doctor but was fine on the way in and out, others you couldn't tell either way.
The doctor himself seemed like he had studied at the University of the Internet or something. He was unshaven and had big dark circles under his eyes and kept rubbing his face as if he'd just had the longest night in existence and now I was here purely to exact revenge upon him by babbling about my injury. He first asked me if I suffered from mental illness, to which I said no (true, by the way, can you believe it!) and then "So what *is* wrong with you?" So I explained it and what I'm capable of and what has done about it so far and that I need to have an arthroscopy and there's a 12 week waiting list, to which he asked will you need surgery and where do you see yourself in 3 months (um) and then he asked me about my hopes and dreams, hobbies, friends. He also asked me what help I need to get back to work, so I replied "Surgery! That would be nice!" and then tried to explain the problem that even if you ignore transport problems I still need to do my exercises throughout the day as and when the and get to the gym and that's already a very delicate balance. He looked somewhat exasperated. Then he told me to wiggle my leg a bit and off I went.
My overall impression is that he was not very competent and I'm not sure what he'll say in the report (he is the guy who could tell the DWP I can work). I say incompetent because he seemed to be reading questions from a list even though I'd answered them already so ended up repeating myself, and he didn't know what an arthroscopy was. *You* may not know what an arthroscopy is but he is a doctor and probably sees about 100 injured/sick people every day. I'll find out in 3 weeks if I get more money or shafted.
You know what I hate? The washing machine upstairs when it's on a spin cycle. One day it will actually make my head explode.
