Friday 30th January
About once every six months since my child was diagnosed with asthma, I have had a telephone conversation that goes something like this:
Them: Hello, Mmmmmh Mmmmmh Surgery.
Me: (taking great care to avoid the phrase 'repeat prescription' as it seems to send them into some kind of wild frenzy) Hello, I need to get another blue asthma inhaler for my son.
Them: (gleefully) Ooo, we don't do repeat prescriptions over the phone!
(pause)
Me: Okay.
(pause)
Me: So, do I need to make an appointment for him or... take him to the hospital or... (trying to think of the other different hoops I have jumped through in the past to get inhalers - it's a new one everytime)
Them: You can just pop into the surgery and fill in a repeat prescription form.
Me: Oh! Really? That's it?
Them: Yes. Can I just take your son's name and date of birth please?
Me: Yes, it's Mmmmmmmmmh and he was born on the mmmmmh of mmmmmh.
Them: Okay. (clicking sound) Oooh. Hang on. When did he last have an asthma review?
Me: (confused about how the information on their computer system works) Um, I don't know. I'll just look it up, I think it was, no, that's this year's calendar so it's not...erm, I know it was in the last term at school.
Them: Well, it says he was down to have an appointment in September but there's no notes on the system from it.
Me: Yes, September. He definately went to it.
Them: But there's no notes on the system.
Me: Right.
(pause)
Me: Sooo...
(pause)
Me: (trying to make helpful suggestions) Then does he need another asthma review before he can get an inhaler?
Them: (laughing at my ludicrous statement) Oh no. Just wait a moment, I'll go and contact a doctor.
(atmospheric music is pumped into my ears)
(long wait)
(my head starts to nod)
Them: Hello?
Me: Wha...?
Them: I can't find a doctor.
Me: (wondering who those people sitting in the twenty different consulting rooms really are) Right.
(long pause)
Me: Soooo......
Them: I'm not sure what to do.
Me: That's very apparent Ok. Shall I ring back later?
Them: No. I think I'll put a note on the system.
(sound of typing)
Me: Ok. Thankyou. But...what do I do?
Them: (stunned at my lack of knowledge about the secret system) You wait till after four o'clock then ring back.
Me: Right. So that would be ringing back later then. Who do I speak to when I ring back?
Them: Well, my name is Mmmmmmmh.
Me: Right. So I'll ask for you?
Them: Oh no, I don't work after 2.00pm.
Me: Wha...? I... (muffled sound of sobbing) So what do I do when I ring back after four o'clock?
Them: (as if speaking to a small child) The doctor will have signed off a repeat prescription form for you. You ring to check it's available, then you wait two working days and come and pick it up.
Me: (weary but victorious) So I can have my son's blood from a stone inhaler at the beginning of next week?
Them: Yes.
Me: Wonderful. Thankyou. I'm going for a lie down now. Goodbye.
It's not that I think all people who work as doctor's receptionists are deliberately awkward - two members of my own family are members of the noble profession. It's just that the ones who work at our local one always seem to think that I understand the system better than they do. Which may be true, but not what you expect when you ring up for help with something.
I think one day I'm going to ring and ask for them to perform a triple heart by-pass operation over the phone and see if it stumps them any less than a simple but life-saving repeat prescription.

We definitely need to know the name and details of this member of 'the noble profession', just in case a CV or job application form from said person arrives at our surgery!! Of course, he/she could have been the happy recipient of a frontal lobotomy performed over the phone by one of the absent doctors as a sort of staff perk....