Retaining Some Prospect of a Future.

I finally got the all clear on the CT scans this afternoon, and was politely informed that the delay in letting me know was my fault. I don’t do as I’m told, you see. I choose which bits of the screening process to accept and which not, and that messes up their systems.

’Twas ever thus. I’ve always had to do things my own way rather than the ways prescribed by my elders and betters. It’s why I accept certain medications and decline others, a practice which causes some clinicians to treat me in an irritated and dismissive manner.

I expect it demonstrates some deficiency on my part, and I know it makes me a pain in the ass sometimes, but I doubt I’ll ever grow up. And it occurs to me that regular readers of this blog probably know me better than most of those who know me personally.

Just off to post a letter to the complaints department of British Telecom now. I find it hard to understand how a commercial organisation of that size can be so inept in the matter of customer services.