The eye test saga (continued)
They say that a tendency amongst ancient persons like myself is the ability to recall (with impressively blinding clarity) the events of decades long past whilst simultaneously being unable to recall what they were doing just two or three days ago.
Therefore, in beginning this piece by stating that I previously posted to The Rust on Friday 4th of March upon the strangeness of my booking for a NHS hospital appointment to review a possible eye condition, I am slightly uncertain as to whether the bulk of our readers will react with a flash of recognition or, alternatively, a blank look of incomprehension.
Nevertheless – for good or ill – my purpose today is to provide an update upon the same ‘problem du jour’ to which I was previously referring.
To recap.
A recent routine trip to my local optician for a first eye test in (I’d estimate) seven or eight years including a programme of being sat in front of a screen upon which, for about two minutes, pin-pricks of light would be flashed randomly at all points around what resembled a clock face, this sequence being designed to enable an assessment of my peripheral vision by first testing my right – and then my left – eye.
This was achieved by handing me a wired-up handle on which there was a button and asking me to press it whenever I noticed one of the aforementioned flashes.
The first time I (imperfectly) did said tests on each eye, the examining optician announced my right eye had done badly.
I then mentioned I had noticed that – just before beginning the test of my left eye – she had told me “Remember to keep blinking your eyes …” and I reported that – when I did the first test (on my right eye) – I had made a deliberate point of not blinking my eyes.
She said this could have been a contributory factor in the poor performance of my right eye, so I was made to repeat the test.
This time my right eye’s performance was much better, but still poor enough that I needed to be referred for an eye test at hospital.
Hence I had to arrange for my GP to formally refer me to my local hospital. Which I did.
The appointment came in the form of a booking letter giving me the date and time – and then later, in the small print, a statement that I was not to attend it.
Instead a consultant would first “triage” my potential eye condition – by which was meant “assess” it before an appointment would be confirmed.
The headline thrust of my post on 4th March was to point out to Rusters the absurdity of being asked to go through the hoops to gain a hospital appointment – then be given a date and time for one by the NHS, but also simultaneously (in the small print) be ordered not to attend it!
Anyway.
Today I tried to contact the NHS booking service in order to try and establish how “a consultant” would be able to assess the seriousness of the alleged problem with my right eye’s peripheral vision without examining me.
I therefore rang the 0345 number the NHS suggested I ring.
An automated female voice then in effect advised me that it was extremely unlikely I’d be able to able to speak to anyone for reasons including Covid and the sheer volume of traffic and therefore my best bet would be to go to the NHS booking website and raise my query there.
When I did that, the following system I joined made it plain that the only matters I would be able to address were two in number: either “altering” or “cancelling” my appointment, i.e. the one (I need hardly remind my readers) that I had been ordered not to attend!
I couldn’t raise the question I wanted to – i.e. the fairly obvious and simple one of how a consultant was going to assess my eye condition without examining my eye.
Hey ho …
I support all I can right now do is “wait further developments”.
I wonder what’s going to happen if (as ordered in a formal NHS letter) I don’t turn up to my appointment later this month … and then the NHS comes on the line to lambast me for failing to attend it!
