Well, that was fun, not. It's 39 degrees here in sunny Goondi. Bear that in mind, as I continue...
My doctor told me that as a chronic disease sufferer, I could have five free visits to a podiatrist, a therapist, a dietician etc.
Sounds fair enough, I thought.
Thanks to feet swolllen to elephantine proportions (heat) how about a trip to the podiatrist? Manky toenails.
It's free, after all.
Ah ha! Hot as Hades - office had the delightful 100 yard wheelie-walker ramp. Five step stairs adjacent.
Sun beating down. Staggered in, sweat pouring. Anyone open a door? Nah.
Could I possibly have a glass of water, please? Ignored me,
Foot man said, "Oh, it is not so hot today", clippped my toenails, and charged me $80.
When I said, "I thought it was free", he said my health insurance did not cover it.
I drank out of the hand-washing tap in his office like a dog, while he messed about with my credit card.
Lurched out, hoiked my wheelie walker back into the car and made it home.
No-one offered to help, or even to open a door.
There is going to be trouble tomorrow. Hoo-yeah.
And if I don't get my DSP soon (it's been SIX months), I am going to the Centrelink(social security) office on my scooter (which I paid for out of my pathetic redundancy) and I'm going to sit there blowing the horn until something is done.
I may be on YouTube.
My doctor told me that as a chronic disease sufferer, I could have five free visits to a podiatrist, a therapist, a dietician etc.
Sounds fair enough, I thought.
Thanks to feet swolllen to elephantine proportions (heat) how about a trip to the podiatrist? Manky toenails.
It's free, after all.
Ah ha! Hot as Hades - office had the delightful 100 yard wheelie-walker ramp. Five step stairs adjacent.
Sun beating down. Staggered in, sweat pouring. Anyone open a door? Nah.
Could I possibly have a glass of water, please? Ignored me,
Foot man said, "Oh, it is not so hot today", clippped my toenails, and charged me $80.
When I said, "I thought it was free", he said my health insurance did not cover it.
I drank out of the hand-washing tap in his office like a dog, while he messed about with my credit card.
Lurched out, hoiked my wheelie walker back into the car and made it home.
No-one offered to help, or even to open a door.
There is going to be trouble tomorrow. Hoo-yeah.
And if I don't get my DSP soon (it's been SIX months), I am going to the Centrelink(social security) office on my scooter (which I paid for out of my pathetic redundancy) and I'm going to sit there blowing the horn until something is done.
I may be on YouTube.
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