My urologist ghosted me
I made a big mistake, the kind of mistake so bad that I kind of sort of cried in the hospital.
The NHS is under some duress, to put it mildly, and my neuro ophthalmologist appointment was a good indication. We were due to meet for a consultation to determine whether my recent tests indicated that my vision was deteriorating. We know that my vision is poor in one eye and that my retinas in both eyes are thin enough for the computer to clear its throat every time we boot up the scans.
The in person appointment was moved to a phone appointment in the afternoon, and the consultant called in the morning when I was in a viva exam, something I cannot interrupt for anything. If burglars entered the home I’d quietly point at the tv, ask them to keep it down, and continue the examination.
The neuro ophthalmologist left a message as short and casual as if he were placing a coffee order telling me that the scans showed stability and that he was therefore discharging me. Incredible news. I’ll miss him though, he was nice, he touched my face, he made my pupils dilate, he told me I had a cute neuritis.
But my mistake was with my urologist.
My first urologist was awkward in our first meeting and while things moved remarkably fast between us, he had my jeans off as fast as you can say ‘intermittent catheterisation’, but he had a great deal of difficulty navigating around my intimate areas, even with directions, and ultimately I left our meeting disappointed.
My new urologist, though, was amazing. We moved slowly, I was enthusiastic and he was always impressed with how well I was doing. I asked for more catheters and he provided responsively, we were a hell of a partnership.
But when it came to our second meeting I turned up, and he left me hanging. I thought maybe he was just held up until I asked about our reservation at the hospital and they told me the cold truth…
I was a day late.
I was totally mortified. Such a simple error to put the appointment in my diary incorrectly but I knew the implications. Being marked as a non-attender, having to wait for another appointment, and more than anything feeling like I wasted someone’s precious time. I got teary.
I asked the staff to apologise for me, to ask him if we could reschedule. I explained what happened but stopped short of offering any excuse. I considered buying my urologist something to apologise but I didn’t want to come on too strong, or appear too needy. The team assured me we’d reschedule but I knew how badly I’d screwed up.
Days turned to weeks. Weeks turned to months… my urologist ghosted me.
But over time my bladder improved. I started emptying better on my own, my control improved, I got stronger. I realised I didn’t need a urologist, I could manage on my own, I’m a strong independent woman damnit.
Ultimately I realised that if I wasn’t comfortable on my own, maybe I wasn’t ready for such a commitment… to my urologist.
Sometimes I still look at my catheters, though, and I remember the good times. The urologist that almost was. And I smile. The one that got away.