NHSness

My house keys click against the specimen jar in my pocket as I walk home the 6 blocks from the surgery. The sound reminds me that I've done it! I've registered with a GP. Nevermind the permanent looking laminated sign hanging in the receptionist's window which read: "DUE TO UNFORSEEN CIRCUMSTANCES, WE ARE NOT ABLE TO PROCESS ANY NEW PATIENTS TODAY. WE APOLOGIZE FOR ANY INCONVIENCE THIS MAY CAUSE." Thank god I called first and asked if they would take me. On the phone I was grilled about my address, and then once I got there, when I pointed to my address on their map (I live well within the red tape they had laid out outlining their "coverage area"), they still stood there behind a cubicle chatting amongst themselves and shaking their heads for a good ten minutes before they finally decided to give in. While waiting I stood staring at a rather graphic poster of a man with a black eye, warning people that NHS employees "don't have to take it". The poster listed the punishments for indulging in your violent fantasies against the NHS, hoping to act as some sort of deterrent. I thought it was really sad that they had to have a poster campaign for this. While I was thinking this I heard someone shout into a phone in a really nasty tone: "I'M SORRY MISS, YOU ARE NOT REGISTERED WITH THIS SURGERY AND THEREFORE I CANNOT HELP YOU! PLEASE CALL ANOTHER SURGERY."

After I got my appointments and walked out, I felt confident that I had dealt with such an enormous bureaucracy without too much trouble. I had to insist on the fact that I was within their coverage area, even though they were wary. I think my heartiness is partially due to the training I received while attending a large university. My first time out on my own in the world I had to wait in endless lines, make countless appointments and deal with red tape just to be able to register for classes, see a doctor, pay my tuition, park my car, change rooms in my dorm and even eat in the dining hall. I thought this was the way everything in the world was: that you waited in long lines, dealt with unhelpful people who would then tell you that what you needed wasn’t their job, and then you would had to go wait in another long line somewhere else. Pay in one window then go across campus with your receipt for services to anther window. Maybe all schools operate like that on some level, but in a school the size of Rutgers, it was like living in another country. I'm glad I got something of an education there if only it was learning how to be patient and not always take "no" for an answer.