Update on Yesterday

This morning I recieved a call from the GP receptionist who informed me that in the light of the letter i'd brought in yesterday that they could offer me an appointment if I would like to call back after 2pm

WHAT THE F***?


update ***

Husband had an appointment with another GP who has asked to see me and offered to take more interest in my care. Welcome to health professional no. 33!

Handed in

I wrote this yesterday after experiencing another panic attack ... It has been slightly altered due to hand writing it for the GP due to printer issues

Dear Doctors

I think I need to see you. I don't know. It has become impossible to cope with living like this anymore and I am desperate for help. I tried to talk with one of you in January, but you were too busy to listen. I felt the upshot of my complaint to the practice manager went along the lines of - well you should have waited longer for the doctor to make time for you - I had booked the appointment on 29th December for the 18th January, you were running 20 mins behind, left me in a room for 5 minutes (to speak to another doctor about another issue not related to me) after I told you I was thinking about suicide. Unfortunately for me, the accumulated anxiety from waiting FOR 3 WEEKS, the depression, the pain, then being ignored, meant that I left and could not bring myself to come back.

When I returned, 2 weeks later, to ask for advice regarding my upcoming appointment with the bowel surgeon, you told me not to come back until I had seen him and gastroenterology.

The referral to the pain clinic has yielded little help. At the follow-up, I was informed that if I want to see what pain really looks like hang around there for a while and had I ever tried meditation? Yes, I have; often and regularly.


Friday I had the exploratory in my bowel booked (and possibly fix the rectocele that gynaecologist refused to do when removing my uterus 3 1/2 years ago and I've been referred 2x to Mr. Clarke for, but I don’t know as it hadn’t really been communicated to me). It has been 4 months since I saw the surgeon in clinic: I was quite uncomfortable and unsure about the whole situation. You made it clear you didn’t want to discuss it; there was nothing more you could do to help or support me, you said. Come back when I've seen all these other people, you said.
On Friday morning I was very nervous. The nurse told me not to be silly. I was extremely constipated, but there was no one to discuss this with. How does one stop being silly? 

I was going for bowel surgery with a loaded bowel; how would that work? There was no one to ask. 

Is this really so unreasonable and silly?

I waited to be seen and when the surgeons assistant (?) came to see me, he didn’t know who I was 2x, he still came to see me a 3rd time and, although he got my name correct, proceeded to tell me they would be operating on the mass found in my bowel. THE MASS FOUND IN MY BOWEL. I asked what mass, he said it was probably an abscess. Again I asked what was he talking about, he told me a mass was found on my MRI. I said I hadn’t had one, I’ve never had an MRI. He said I had and then that he didn’t know what was what and wandered off. At this point, and over the following 10 minutes or so, my reasoning went out of the window. My husband, being unable to calm me, helped me leave the ward whereupon I had the most horrific experience of my life. I experienced extreme panic, I could not breathe, think or move. All I know is that I could not remain there.

Since then I have felt, really, it would be quite important to come and see my GP. That what people do isn’t it? That's what all the literature concerning anxiety and depression says … see your GP, talking it over with your GP, let your GP know how you feel. This morning I didn't let the anxiety stop me leaving the house, I walked down the road see a doctor. I spoke to the receptionist and realised that I couldn’t leave the house again to come back for the appointment she offered for 1 hour 40 mins later. She then rang me offering me half an hour later, but I cannot cope with the prospect of going outside. It further fuelled my panic and I couldn’t think of anything other than how ridiculous I was being. Ridiculous for feeling like this and stupid for thinking there would be anything other than pills to help me. The pills don’t work, or they don’t do what you want them to, or the side effects are just more issues that stand in the way of life, or … I don’t know. 

I cannot see what benefit I would get from seeing a GP other than wasting an appointment on me that would be better served helping someone you can. I am not an emergency; there seems to be very little you can or will do to help. I don’t know where else to go for what else to do but stay in my room.

I don’t know.

Follow up to complaint 22/2

dear mrs wilson
further to my letter of 7/3 and as promised i write detailing the outcome of my investigations. I have now been able to discuss the consultation with dr jee and have read the notes made on your medical records of the consultation of the morning 18/1.

on the morning of the 18/1 dr jee was one of four members of stand at fernside surgery that day. the other three staff were a physotherapist, a steps to wellbeing counsellor and a receptionist. Dr jee was the duty doctor both for heather view and fernside surgery that day which means if an emergency situation arose by a patient or another heathcare colleague Dr jee would need to attend to it immediately, either on the phone or face to face.

you were the third patient on dr jee’s list and unfortunately after about 2 minutes into the consultation Dr ponton, who was working at our main surgery telephoned dr jee regarding an urgent matter. he was aware from our computer system that dr jee was consulting at the time but he felt that it was urgent enough to interrupt her. our protocol is that a doctor is only to be inturrupted by a telephone call if it is extremely urgent and for the doctor to be contacted by electronic messaging system for any other issues. we operate this protocol as we are totally aware of how disconcerting it is for the patient when a consultation is interrupted.

as the only doctor at fern side that morning dr jee was the only persona available to deal with an urgent clinical matter. she answered the phone and spoke to dr ponton briefly. she informed him she would call him back and ended the call and continued the consultation with yourself. when speaking with you it soon became obvious that you had a complex medical history and she needed to ensure that she had all the clinical information on your notes. when hospital letters or letter from other healthcare organisations come into the surgery they are scanned onto the patients notes by reception staff. this is not always done the same day and dr jee left the room to go and check there were no letters waiting to be scanned onto your notes in reception.she did this in order to ensure she had all the information available to her to ensure that she could offer you the best and correct care available. dr jee advised you of this and let the consultation room. dr jee is sorry that her communication regarding the situation was inadequate and made you feel abandoned. this is not howe we want any of our patients to feel when the come to see a doctor or nurse.

Whilst dr jee was in reception she realised that she needed to return the telephone call to dr ponton and wanted to give you her full attention on her return she called dr ponton. unfortunately the telephone call took several minutes and at this point you left the consultation room and fern side surgery. i believe dr jee then followed you out of the building asking you to return to the consultation room which you refused to do so. dr jee then telephoned you to try to explain what happened as asked if you would like to come back and continue the consultation, which you informed her that you would not be coming back to the surgery. dr jee is sorry that her communication regarding the situation was inadequate and made you feel abandoned; this is not how we want any of our patients to feel when the come to see a doctor or nurse.

as mentioned earlier i have checked the consultation records and have conferred with dr ponton and dr jee and i am of the opinion that this is a very unfortunate situation with a doctor trying to attend to several issues in a very busy practice. as previously stated dr jee tried to explain to you why the interruptions we necessary and offers her sincere apologies as this is something that does not normally happen.

in summary, i am sorry that the event of the 18/1 have upset you to the point that you felt that you had to write a letter of complaint. on behalf of the surgery please accept my most sincere apologies for any distress this may have caused you. the unfortunate circumstances around an emergency call coming through to dr jee whilst in the middle of you consultation, i hope is not a frequent occurrence, however i hope you understand that as duty doctor that dy she had a duty of care to contact dr ponton as soon as possible.

once again, please accept my apologies for the distress caused to you on the occasion.

To Who It May Concern,

I have received your decision about my son.

Having never met him or previously known anything about him, you send me some rather difficult to navigate 40 something page form to fill out and form judgements.

I’m blown away by the fact you deem him unworthy of your support.

Having had him at home since September last year as he went into a complete meltdown with his social anxiety due to his ASD; having fought for that entire time for an EHCP for him, and subsequently secured him a place in an ASD unit this September; having lost my child allowance for him as he wasn’t in education due to his meltdown, and being told I now have to prove if and when he is back into education to reinstate it; having increased my working hours to cover the costs; having just finished clearing up soiled underwear and tissue from my bathroom floor, again…..  I sat down to peruse your reasoning and criteria.

My first thought is that you should have interviewed us. Met my son. Seen how difficult he would have found it to speak with you, or even be in the same room as you if it was a tricky day. Tried to look into his eyes and find a simple answer for your simple questions.

My second thought is that gaining a job myself in a special needs school and receiving top class training in how to help autistic people has really just made me hypothetically shoot myself in the foot. To manage well with a difficult child is clearly not the done thing. To not ask for help until you really feel you can’t manage without help is also not the done thing- as far as I can see, those who know the system, are born into the system, and somehow automatically receive help- and those of us who have no idea what is even available let alone where to go for that help stand no hope of gaining the help we need for our autistic children as they become adults. This is an incredibly difficult system to understand- on every level – and I’ve always considered myself as reasonably intelligent.

Thirdly, my son is the eldest of 4 children. I have not cleaned up poo for any of the others for many years, and yet, your form tells me ‘you can manage your toilet needs or incontinence unaided’ - i.e; because your mother does it, we class you as independent??!! That’s not independent- that’s trapped at home with Mum as you’re too frightened to deal with it. That’s not independent, that’s leave the room when the consultant tries to discuss it with you, and then shout and scream at your mum for not just getting on with it and for being stupid enough to want to get him help. That’s not independent. That’s embarrassed, scared, unable to verbalise what even happens in your body to make you unable to control your toileting. THAT IS NOT INDEPENDENT!

Fourthly, ‘You can express and understand verbal information unaided’ – well his educational psychologist must be wrong then, because he got his place at the ASD unit based on his massive problems with social communication, and anxiety that brings. My son can’t ask where a toilet is, he can’t say he feels unwell, he can’t say he is lost or scared or unsure or unable because the social anxiety strangles him and makes him so afraid he has days where he won’t even leave the house. He is 17 years old and has never gone off with a friend to party or into town to shop – he will not and cannot access these things without a family member. THAT IS NOT INDEPENDENT!

I do not for one second expect you to change your decision. We are merely a long reference number on a sheet, and clearly not exhausted parents trying to do the best by our autistic son. While I’m here to look after him he will be fine, but why on earth should I feel terrified that one day his truly independent brother and sisters may be burdened with looking after him because the system deems him to be independent too. He isn’t, and no amount of money he does or doesn’t receive will change that, but I was hoping it might change some things…. Maybe get him his own bathroom to take the pressure off him, sharing with 5 other family members must be hard for him sometimes, or maybe to be able to do something to try and stem his social anxiety more, I don’t know- just something to make his life easier and less scary- to build his independence. To build his confidence.

Being autistic isn’t easy. This system isn’t easy. And I don’t believe for one second it should be this hard. My son is an amazing, brilliant, kind, gentle human being who navigates this world differently to you or I. I just wanted you to know that. Maybe one day these thoughts will reach the minds of those people who put the system in place. Maybe one of them will have a child with autism and realise simple box ticking and adding up of numbers doesn’t work for our children. They are much, much more 3 dimensional than that.

Dear Sir/Madam,

On visiting the surgery this afternoon for my B12 injection, I was taken into the office by a very friendly nurse who informed me I had to do a questionnaire as I had recently been diagnosed with depression! This was news to me! As far as I was aware, I had just been diagnosed with iron anaemia and B12 deficiency!

Since learning of my bloodworks result, I have done much googling as I had no idea how a few vitamins and minerals can affect a person. My findings were not only incredibly interesting, but I seemed to tick most of the boxes for symptoms.

When I originally saw Dr C I don’t feel she particularly listened to what I was saying about how I felt, and had her finger on the ‘print depression leaflet’ button rather too quickly for my liking. Don’t get me wrong, lately I have been under a huge amount of stress what with moving house and having 4 children, and feeling the economical pinch like a lot of people right now. But what I have been feeling has been a very physical thing – crashing exhaustion, migraines, chest pain and palpitations, muscle pains, pins and needles in my hands, and numbness/an inability to grip. I was getting confused, forgetting things and getting cross at myself for my confusion. When I ran, which is something I often used to do, I had excruciating pain in my thighs, when I walked my lovely dogs I was dragging my feet round the field. And then, when I went to bed, feeling like I could sleep for a week, I would wake up after an hour or 2 and find it impossible to get back to sleep again.

There were moments when I began to wonder if in fact I was going a little crazy – I’m only 41 and I felt like I was 81 – everything ached, and I was finding it harder and harder to get on my with day to day extremely busy schedule. So, understandably, when I finally plucked up the courage to see the doctor (not something I do easily, I simply don’t like going to the doctors and treat most of my ailments with aromatherapy and herbal medicine) I was feeling a little teary. I had reached the end of my tether with the symptoms. The doctor assumed I was depressed, and sent me for blood tests to rule out other things, so we could get on and treat the depression.

Within 24 hours of having the blood test, the doctor was on the phone telling me I needed further blood tests as I had ‘a little vitamin deficiency’. After all those tests were done, and no particular cause for the deficiencies were found I was put on to slow release iron tablets, and vitamin B12 injections.

Within 2 days of the tablets, I was free from the chest pains and the scary palpitations, (which I was informed by the doctor days earlier were from anxiety, even though I said I don’t feel anxious) and by the 3rd B12 injection I felt like I could run again with the dogs! My son pointed out how much I was laughing, and I realised I was going to bed and sleeping. Even with the throat virus I have picked up from my other son this week, I am on top of the world again, and feeling like I can now do all the things I need to do. I feel energised and awake, and my thinking is much, much clearer. 

I wonder if perhaps your surgery is not aware of the effects of B12 deficiency on some people, and perhaps are a little too quick to throw anti depressants at people who actually have this deficiency – here’s some things I have learnt along the way......

From the BUPA website: http://www.bupa.co.uk/individuals/health-information/directory/v/anaemia-b12

# feeling very tired

# breathlessness after little exercise

# palpitations - the sensation of feeling your heartbeat thumping in your chest

# headaches

# a reduced appetite

# a sore mouth and tongue

As well as the symptoms of anaemia, vitamin B12-deficiency may cause symptoms related to your nerves. This is called vitamin B12 neuropathy. It may affect your movement and sensation, especially in your legs, cause numbness or 'pins and needles' and decrease your sensitivity to touch, vibration or pain. It can also cause confusion, depression, poor concentration and forgetfulness.

From netdoctor : http://www.netdoctor.co.uk/diseases/facts/anaemiab12.htm

What are the symptoms of this type of anaemia?

If a person is otherwise healthy, it can take some time for the signs of anaemia to appear.

   * The first symptoms will be tiredness and palpitations (awareness of heartbeat).

   * Shortness of breath and dizziness (fainting) are also common.

   * If the anaemia is severe, it can result in angina (chest pain), headache and leg pains (intermittent claudication).

   * Red, sore tongue and mouth.

   * Weight loss.

   * Diarrhoea.

Some people with vitamin B12 deficiency will experience symptoms in their nervous system first, such as:

   * altered or reduced sense of touch

   * less sensitivity to vibration (inability to feel the vibrations of a tuning fork)

   * colour blindness

   * tingling in the hands and feet

   * muscle weakness

   * difficulties with walking and coordination

   * psychological symptoms, such as memory loss, confusion and depression.

Also see: http://www.mssociety.org.uk/applications/discussion/view.rm?post_id=914858&id=14320

http://www.b12d.org/content/symptoms-associated-b12-deficiency

http://www.b12d.org/bbc_documentary

Now, the doctor ‘may’ negate all this by saying I was ‘borderline’ at 198, but also from what I have read, anything under 400 can start to cause serious symptoms, which is why in Japan they have just changed the lowest limit up to 550. I think more research needs to go into this illness, and a little less haste taken in dealing out antidepressants to people who simply don’t need them. 

I’m a singer songwriter by trade, an arty type who feels emotions and studies them through music. I am also a busy mum, a vegetarian, and am about to start work in music therapy and special needs. I am not a hypochondriac, a depressive, or an emotional wreck in any way shape or form. If the doctor took her eyes off the computer screen long enough to make eye contact with me, and asked the right questions, she would see that obviously, I am just one of those patients who simply cant fall below the recommended government ideal of what B12 levels should be. 

Please don’t get me wrong and think I am judging anybody else in the way I feel I have been judged – this is simply a plea that the NHS gets up to speed on what is a very misdiagnosed illness, and to remove the ‘recently diagnosed with depression’ from my medical notes as it is inaccurate and misleading. I took the silly questionnaire and passed with flying colours – especially as at least 50% of my symptoms have gone in the mere week I have been on treatment, and I look forward to continuing with my treatment, and hopefully making a full recovery.

I am sure Dr C is normally a very competent doctor. I am new to the surgery I am not really familiar with any of the doctors really. But in this instance I do feel that my actual diagnosis, which is there in black and white from my blood test results, and some imagined diagnosis of a woman who had had enough of feeling lousy, are miles apart. 

I’m not the most confident of people, and to write this has been very difficult, but I do feel its is a very important letter which I hope is read as it is intended. Many many illnesses begin very misunderstood, and it is only through learning, research and understanding that progress is made.

Yours sincerely,

Things you thought you knew (That your ASD child taught you otherwise)

Now here's the thing. My son wasn't diagnosed until he was 15. That doesn't mean he wasn't autistic until he was 15, it just meant that between medical mess ups, a badly timed house move, and a neglectful school SENCO, he slipped through the net until he took his mock GCSEs. Their net, that is! He's always been well and truly cuddled in my safety net.

Let's rewind.... 

A was my firstborn. I was a singer/songwriter and just before I decided to start having babies I took the decision to walk away from music. I'd never been your run of the mill human. I didn't have a 'real' job. I didn't hold down relationships very well. I didn't own anything much- certainly not a house or anything grown up like that. I met A's Dad when I was 28. I was still existing like a 17-year-old - I was young in my head! We had an opportunity to move away to start a new life. I was 30 weeks pregnant but thought, hey, why not!!! But by the time A was 12 weeks old, our dream life had fallen around our feet and we were jobless and penniless, and far from home!!! We did some serious heart searching and decided we might as well just keep going. I had family fairly near and had an amazing picture in my head of green fields and growing my own veg and animals running in the garden. You're beginning to see what a dreamer I am aren't you... 

A didn't sleep. And he never stopped feeding or crying. He was my first so I thought 'wow, babies are hard work'!!! I cried sometimes too- but I got on with it, and carried on with my plan to make sure he had a brother or sister nearby in age. By the time A was 6 months he really settled down. He still had to eat a lot, I mean a lot a lot. But he began sleeping and some days I'd think he was asleep and he'd just be sitting silently in the cot. 

He was a funny little thing. Didn't crawl, but just sat there like a little pudding wanting more porridge. He wouldn't sit on the grass, it made him cry, so I'd sit him on a blanket in the garden and he'd pull his toys towards him by tugging on the rug. But never venture off the rug- contained by his own fears! By now I was pregnant again so grateful that he was more settled, but desperate for him to get walking so I didn't have to lug him around with my ever increasing belly. 

B was born when A was 15 months old. A still wasn't walking, and any attempt he made ended in serious head injuries and terrifying falls. There was NO WAY he could work out stairs!!! Our little cottage had 2 steps on the landing. I lost count of the amount of times he fell down, or up them. Ice packs and ice pops were never far away. 

As B grew and started crossing milestones I became aware of how tricky A could be sometimes. Still terrifying on his feet, he'd climb to the top of plastic slides at toddler groups then randomly step off the side. The mothers there thought I was neurotic I'm sure. Standing nearby ready to soften his fall. But I couldn't stand by and watch him headbutt another concrete floor, or split his lip again. 

As his walking improved his toe walking didn't. He tiptoed around like a little chubby ballerina and tripped continuously. I asked the health visitor who told me to see the GP. The GP referred us to the hospital and the hospital finally said he had 'tight calves' they were discussing operating on him - cutting his Achilles' tendons to help his rather stiff legs to work better. Then just before D-day, the doctor asked, 'have you heard of dyspraxia'?! I researched it and it certainly sounded like it could be A. We were sent away, with a referral to the OT. 

A began nursery. He cried and cried and screamed and cried. I honest to god think he cried, screamed, or vomited (oh yes, this was another of A's party tricks. I'll tell you more in a bit) until year 5!!!!! They'd peel him off me leaving great huge gauges in my neck, then every day when I'd go and pick him up he'd throw his bag at me, punch me, and throw himself on the floor crying. Playground mums would try hard not to make eye contact but I could feel their judgements burning through the back of my head, their stares practically parting my messy pink hair from behind. 

He began being invited to birthday parties, not everyone would invite him, less and less as the years passed, but at first, there were quite a few. We'd turn up to a noisy, brightly coloured soft play somewhere on the border, and I'd brace myself. Sometimes it was only 3 steps inside the door when A would announce 'I don't like that smell' and would throw up on the jigsaw carpet. Other times he'd time it just so I'd be in mid conversation with a rather well dressed, very made up Stepford mummy when the heaving began. I tried to run to the toilets or outside or at least to a washable floor surface. I didn't often manage it. And slowly, bit by bit, parties became impossible things. 

So did the idea of going for a meal. Or going somewhere new. Or visiting family in the south. Or cooking certain foods at home. There were too many smells he didn't like and too much puke to clear up in public places. I was beginning to baton down the hatches. 

And me, being a rather inept socialite myself (almost waiting for the diagnosis police to come knocking on my door one day and demanding my credentials!), I just felt I was a pretty rubbish Mum and clearly I was doing something wrong. I hadn't taught him how to be in social situations- he'd somehow seen my fight against the great wide world and got a whiff of my own 'fear puking' in the past, so no wonder he was struggling. 

As B grew and hit more and more milestones it was like a great big magnifying glass being held over A. B was pretty easy to potty train, A still couldn't master it. B stopped wetting the bed, A didn't for many years to come. And let's not talk about bowel habits. In fact, we can't talk about them, because A still doesn't have the emotional language to verbalise any of that. 

Don't get me wrong though- A's autism didn't affect his speech really. He didn't babble much, but suddenly came up with 'oh mummy look at the amazing Audi' and could soon name every make and model of car. He was only 2 or 3!!! He's always had one of those memories too- like he can name every player in every football team and tell you the number on their shirt and all that. He'd freak me out when he was 9 or 10 with the names he could even pronounce! He has great language skills, but not great understanding ones. He can categorically state now, 'I don't understand sarcasm, but you're being sarcastic, right?!' 

And that there is the single most amazing thing that has happened very very recently. He began being able to verbalise, not all, but enough tiny snippets of what's going on in his head that I finally feel like I understand enough to be able to help. Just a bit. Even if it's just reassurance. 

So- tripping backwards again... 

A was bullied at school. A lot. But sometimes he couldn't verbalise it and I'm not exaggerating when I tell you it has been TWO YEARS LATER that A has explained why something happened or about a particular child that hurt him or something. CAHMs became involved when A's school fear (a combination of fear puking every time we left the house, being bullied pretty persistently, and the smell of the school hall). I was unable to force him to school - not while he was being sick. So he didn't go. Actually for several months. CAHMs would come and chat with us, we had a lovely lady who spent many hours chatting with A and drying my tears. She also asked my permission to refer him to the autistic team. Eventually, we got him back to school. Shortly after that, the school phoned in a panic. The boy they categorically said was not bullying my son had snapped and smashed A's face into the concrete repeatedly. This was year 5, and the same boy that had been hurting him since reception. Shortly after this, school became a little easier for him. 

OT had sent him for trampolining lessons to strengthen his core and sent him a special chair to sit on and a big fat knife and fork to help his fine motor skills. I never saw the diagnosis in print and wonder to this day if it was an actual diagnosis or just a quiet fobbing off. But after waiting on the autism waiting list for 3 years and counting, CAHMs suggested we got for an ADHD diagnosis as this would get A 'the same kind of help' as the autistic team would offer. I went ahead, and my 3 toed sloth of a boy was diagnosed with ADHD!!! I laughed and said for god's sake don't get them to look at B! Now HE was a big fidget  

At this point, we put our house on the market as I just wanted to come home. I missed my family and felt trapped by the misunderstanding of my son and what I felt was the judgements of people around me. I never settled into the area, even though I did make some lovely friends, I just couldn't shake off the homesick feeling. I also felt that in familiar surroundings I might be braver with B and help him to move forwards more. It took a year for the house to sell, and that left us at 4 years on the autism waiting list for 4 years with no response. 

We arrived back *home* in the summer before A began at high school. I was lucky to get him a place at the local school, but the others were sent further afield. I told them he had dyspraxia and ADHD and was on the autism waiting list. They said they'd send off for all the relevant information from his old school. 

A coped incredibly well- this was a massive change- but I think in some sense he was grateful to be away from the people that had made his life so difficult. The football team he wasn't cool enough to click in with. The school where his bullying was ignored until he was hospitalised.

Complaint 22/2/2017

Heatherview Medical Centre
Alder Road
Poole
Dorset

An appointment was made for me by a member of the reception staff at Fernside
Medical Centre on 29th December 2016 to see Dr Jee at 8-50am on 18th January
2017. This was after weeks of desperately waiting to see a doctor. Everywhere I
turn, I am told that my GP is my first port of call. I have been waiting
patiently for an opportunity to explain how hard my life has become living with
my untreated and constantly misdiagnosed condition. I am now at the point where
I am struggling to maintain any kind of daily routine.

I arrived at the surgery at 8-46am; I was Dr Jee's first appointment. I had seen
Dr Ponton call in his 8-50am appointment; she was seen and left whilst I waited.
I was called into the consultation room at 9-05am.

Dr Jee asked how she could help and I very briefly outlined that I was having
difficulty making a gastroenterologist appointment, gave a quick overview of
dietitian appointment and explained I had been suffering severe (some new)
symptoms from abdominal issues. I also told her I was feeling suicidal and had
been since before Christmas.

The phone then rang and she answered it; after a minute, she informed the caller
she was with a patient and would call him back. She put the phone down, looked
at her computer screen, read part of a letter (I have a copy of the letter
here), claimed there was something regarding this at reception and left the
room.

Five minutes later at 9-12am, very upset, I left her office to find Dr Jee,
again, on the phone. Informing her and the receptionist that I could no longer
wait, I left the building. Despite living with relentless pain and constantly
thinking about taking my own life, I still have commitments, which I try my
hardest to fulfill.

Dr Jee then phoned me and asked me to come back. I explained that I would not be
coming back. I had been there at my scheduled appointment time, I had tried to
talk to her but she had chosen to answer a phone call, after which she had left
me in her office so she could make another phone call. She then attempted to
justify her action by stating that she was the only doctor in the building -
something I knew to be a lie having seen Dr Ponton - and that she had time for
me now. How is that possible with her 9am, 9-10am and now 9-20am appointment
waiting to see her? I'd listened long enough to the staff member explain there
were no appointments that morning to another patient clearly desperate to see a
doctor.

I had one of your doctors ignore me and abandon me. She was not interested in me
or what she could do to help me. I had told her I felt like taking my own life
and, instead of talking to me about it, she walked out of the room, moved onto
another patient and then phoned me up to lie about it.

Is this what I can expect from any further appointments I have with this
practice? Is this the usual treatment from this surgery (or any other in the
practice) for dealing with people in a sensitive situation? Is this now the NHS
way of bringing down waiting times and/or treating vulnerable patients out of
their comfort zone? Are other patients aware of the kind of service they can
expect?