I had a follow-up consultation at QEH, Birmingham.
It was the familiar ‘ushered in, ushered out’ kind of appointment. I felt decisions had been made before I entered the room. I was told that my last MRI scan showed “Good news! There’s nothing wrong with you!”
Hurrah! So I can skip out of here pain-free and return to my carefree, headache-free, study-filled, fun-filled life? Brilliant!
“But…,“ I said, “that IS good news. I’m glad that the MRI showed nothing serious, but.. I still have a headache. I still have almost constant nausea. So what are we going to do next?”
The consultant – having barely turned his face towards me to take his eyes away from his screen, spinned on his chair back to face the wall and said “This is good news, there’s nothing wrong, and therefore we don’t need to take any action.”
The room fell silent as he waited for me to leave.
Disbelief. My throat tightened and my eyes began to well up.
“But there IS something wrong with me – I have a headache…,” I said quietly.
Sighing, he turned towards me, and repeated “We can’t find anything wrong. I’m afraid there’s no more we can do for you”, and gestured towards my coat and bag on the floor beside me, turning his chair back to the wall.
A student entered the room, coming in to what must surely have looked like a strange scene of a patient sitting dumb-founded and a doctor sitting with his back to her.
“So will I see you again?”
“That won’t be necessary”, he said to his screen.
I stood up, taking my coat and bag, and left. I did not thank him for his time. I was fuming. I walked back to my car and cried.