Hospital!

Since returning to the UK, I have been concentrating on sorting my health out. Whilst living in Spain my well-being had been neglected for far too long. Now in my late forties it was important for me to start looking towards a brighter future, so returning home, has allowed me to sort out many problems that had been building for years.

Sadly in Spain, I had no access to the state health care system, having been taken off my employers payroll without my knowledge at least six months before I left for the UK. In Spain the only way I could access such services was by proving my employment. Due to my removal and payment of wages on a cash in hand basis, without wage slips, I was left helpless when trying to access the GP's surgery in Gran Alacant.  In the end I chose to pay for medical care, but the language barrier and costs involved proved too much and I just put my ailments on the back burner for a while; a decision that could have left me in a precarious position, when I should have looking after myself.

During the last six months living on the Costa Blanca, I wasn't in a good way and was suffering from a number of different problems, brought on mainly by anxiety and stress. I was prescribed blood pressure tablets and Statins and paid €250 for an MOT, just to see if there were any other issues to be concerned about, which thankfully there weren't. Nevertheless there were other concerns I was avoiding, mainly due to my cowardice and it wasn't until I returned to the UK, that I really got to grips with what was going on with my 48 year old body.

It is interesting to note that I left the UK to help improve my health, by living and working in Spain, yet left with it in a worse condition than it was two and a half years before. Spain was never really going to work for us as a couple, it is an unforgiving place; the lack of employment opportunities, income, personal issues and an employer whose behaviour was erratic and difficult, just compounded the disadvantages we faced.

Spain is a distant memory now and I am just glad to be home, dealing with complications that have been mounting for years. Like most men, I have been ignoring conditions, that could be potentially serious, for too long, until today. When I first arrived in the UK I booked to see my Doctor about a personal issue and was referred to a specialist in Portsmouth, making my first appointment in September. Subsequently I cancelled this date and four others, I suppose because of the fear of what could be found. Today I finally plucked up the courage to go to St Mary's Treatment Centre, with my Cousin to keep me company, in order to attend the day clinic and undergo an investigative procedure. Being honest, I have been worried about this surgery for months now, but I need not have been.

The Doctor and nurses put me at ease and I could even watch the operation being carried out on a television screen, all the while the surgeon describing what was going on. Although uncomfortable, I chose not to have any sedation and endured the process without any difficulty at all.

After waiting in the ward, I was given my results within ten minutes and was relieved at the findings. Yesterday I was going to die, today I was able to breathe a sigh of relief, after being prescribed a course of treatment to help ease my symptoms and live with the condition without any real trouble.

I suppose the moral of this entry today is simple....Whatever issues you may have, deal with them there and then and don't delay what essentially could be a life saving procedure. My symptoms mirrored many other serious, chronic illnesses and it was just through luck that I didn't have anything life threatening. I am so thankful I kept my appointment at St Mary's and as I approach my fifties, will no longer be avoiding the same consultations in the future. I will have to continue having checkups on a regular basis from now on but will not be delaying the inevitability of old age; next time I might not be so lucky!