I attended an appointment today with an orthopaedic surgeon who turned out to be the most rude, egotistical and insensitive man I have ever had the misfortune to meet.
I had such high hopes when I realised the man’s name was Ricketts, as I thought it would give me the opportunity to break the ice by making the obvious joke about him having a very apt name, given his job.
As I was led away to his hired room within Nuffield Hospital (which peculiarly is not situated in Nuffield but in far distant Haywards Heath) it immediately became clear that I was not going to be given the chance to speak freely as this man had obviously developed a glib patter and modus operandum of talking at patients rather than to them.
Mr Ricketts began by bleating on in a very accusatory manner about the sheer volume of paperwork revolving around my accident, as if I had generated it in some way!
I was already feeling quite unwell from the long journey; the furthest I had driven since being knocked off my bike in August, and Mr Ricketts was making me feel a lot worse as it dawned on me that I was not there for a second opinion on my floating collarbone but was in fact there to be cross-examined by him as to the nature of my injuries.
He started off by asking me what I do for a living and once I told him I was a writer he asked me to look him up on the Internet as he had written 268 articles for medical journals and the like. I had made a mental note at this time that I would not let him anywhere near me with a knife in his hand!
He next asked me about my cycling and in particular whether I was wearing a helmet. When I responded "no" he tutted and began to give me a lecture on the merits of wearing a helmet.
I then explained that I was not wearing a helmet because I was riding the mile route off-road and the only on-road part of the journey was where I actually got knocked off turning right to go to the hospital.
I felt compelled to explain further that it was one of the few times I had ever ridden without a helmet although I did have a fluorescent yellow head protector on which does the job very well and indeed obviously did a great job in this instance. I had in fact found it very difficult to come to terms with the fact that apart from a perforated ear and a few bumps and bruises I had no head injuries and I certainly did not need a lecture on safe riding (something I pride myself on) from a total stranger.
By now I felt chastened and a little angry although tried hard not to show it. Mr Ricketts then began to tell me some story of his cycling buddies to which I replied I was in fact a Crawley Wheeler. He then said "you must know Dougie Fox" and went on to say that he operates on all the cyclists in the club. I told him Doug was a friend of mine but I did not in fact know that he had operated on him or anyone else in my club as everyone to a man who I had spoken to with shoulder injuries since my accident were operated on by a Mr Maurice from East Surrey Hospital. This possibly didn't go down too well with Mr Ricketts but I was merely being honest and engaging in the small talk he seemed to want to persist with.
Already Mr Ricketts had flung himself back in his chair in a fit of pique on two occasions as he did not like my replies to his questions. I could see he was becoming agitated and he was making me feel very uncomfortable with his constant "you must take that up with your solicitor" anytime I asked him a question such as "what is the reason I am here today?"
Finally, he asked me on a scale of 1 to 10, one being the lowest and 10 being the highest, how painful was my shoulder. I began to reply that at the scene of the crime I was asked that question by the paramedic and although in excruciating pain I replied, 7, so I would have to compare my pain with that score.........As I got that far he then interjected "I'm sorry I don't think there is anything I can do for you" as he rose from his chair shook my hand and summarily dismissed me.
I did complain to the sister on exit who told me of her surprise at the decision to curtail the session as no voices were raised but she went on also to explain that Mr Ricketts merely hires a room at the hospital/clinic and the hospital/clinic bears no responsibility for his actions.
I’m still a little perplexed at what actually went on and indeed why I had to travel all the way to Haywards Heath midway through my ongoing treatment. I have no idea if this man was working for me or against me, or indeed where he is tied into my treatment, although I suspect all he was interested in was perpetuating the paper work as part of my claim rather than having my wellbeing paramount in his mind.
And that is the crux of the matter. I am obviously not happy with an arm I can do little with at present and my current consultant is reluctant to operate on. I had asked the solicitor acting on my behalf if I could have a second opinion and rather hoped that Mr Ricketts was going to be that opinion. It does not sit well with me that only the claim matters at this stage.
If this man was hired to make an independent assessment, surely that means an examination. Everything else is documented and I shouldn’t be bothered with answering questions as to the merits of wearing a helmet or medical proof which is not for me to comment on.
I couldn’t care less about the claim inasmuch as no amount of money could ever compensate me for the loss of the love of my life – cycling. Did this man who boasted to me of all his ‘cycling friends’ not consider this?. I am absolutely lost at the moment. I had a cardiac ablation to enable me to cycle freely without fear of having to stop during club rides and races and now I know it was all in vain as I cannot ride on the roads again anyway.
At least the very considerate sister understood my plight and suggested counselling.
I know from my own family experience that nurses certainly have better bedside manners than doctors!
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