I imagine most people get a bit fed up of junk mail arriving on their doorstep, but as it seems to keep the posties in a job, I put up with it. Not very good for the planet, I know, but I send it off for recycling. It gets a bit much though when the junk mail comes from the NHS.
A few months ago I had a private and confidential letter from them telling me about a new development which will affect the way my records are managed. If I agree to share my health records and information it will ensure the right people have the right information about me at the right time. Fair enough I thought, anything which helps the staff to look after me has got to be a good thing. So I agreed.
Then a few weeks later I had a letter inviting me to go for a cervical smear, something I have been doing for a few years now. Nice of them to remind me, but hang on a minute, do I really need one now, after all I had a hystericalrectomy ;o) in 2008. I took the letter to my doctor and told the receptionist that I have had all my bits removed, I haven't got a cervix. She checked my records on the computer and said, no you don't need one, I will inform the department which sent the letter. Fair enough, these things take time to filter through, maybe it's a machine that sends the letters out.
Blow me, I got another letter a few weeks later, saying I did not respond to the first one. Another visit to the surgery, good job it is only across the road. Apologies from the receptionist, she will tell them again and I shouldn't hear any more. So much for sharing records then!
Bugger me, I got another letter yesterday telling me it is not wise to miss having a test, as they don't recall you after you are 65, and this would be my last chance. Another walk across to the surgery, I felt like screaming at the receptionist. 'For goodness sake, I haven't got a cervix, or a womb, or fallopian tubes, or ovaries, I have got no bits, zilch, all gone, empty container, the rest of my insides are rattling round in a big empty space where my reproductive system once was, but is no longer there. Will somebody please put this on my records in block capitals, and will somebody please read it before they send me another letter.'
Maybe I should have made the appointment for the test, gone along with the procedure, and when the nurse starts peering into her instrument, I could have said, 'bit dark in there is it?' Ha ha.