Tag Archives: hospital

Unseen Forces At Work To Keep Me Safe From Harm

It didn’t take long after yesterday’s “Debacle In Toulouse” at the Hôpital Rangueil for me to realise that unseen forces had been at work to keep me safe from harm. I’ve named the hospital today because they really should be ashamed of treating anyone in that manner and they do need to clean up their act!

But as we exited the building and began to walk to the car, I told Mark that none of it had been right and I felt like we were leaving for a very good reason — not simply because it had been a farce from beginning to end and I was angry.

Mark was just a smidge grumpy about losing a full day of paid work when we’ve had so many unexpected settling-in expenses this month, but he too recognised that it was all far too not-quite-right. And having had those dreams ahead of time that I’m about to relate to you and which Mark was already aware of meant he laughed with good nature as we ate lunch and smirked, “Why, you’re positively psychic!” and I laughed back, “Yes, I actually am! And it serves me well.”

Any time I have ever had to have surgery or a complicated medical procedure in the past, I have taken the time the night before to do a longish session of meditation and guided imagery to smooth the way. I sat on the bed on Sunday night, did all of that, felt a glowing and twinkly light wrap around me, sensed the presence of several spiritual beings or now-departed people around me including my mother, and then off to sleep I went. But I awakened again and again throughout the night and each time it was from a vivid dream that was a different version of why the next day was not going to go well.

In the first dream, I saw us explaining to someone in charge that we had left far enough in advance, but we’d gotten behind an accident on the motorway and the delay was not our fault. The drive to Toulouse takes just over one hour, but we left here yesterday morning 2 hours and 5 minutes ahead of time. And yes, we did get into gridlock commuting-to-work traffic AND see an accident that was slowing things down even further.

In the second dream, we went to the wrong office after arriving and were then directed to another incorrect office. That is exactly what happened! We arrived early with my appointment sheet, went to the building, wing, floor, and office that were listed and the woman who told me “you don’t conform to our schedule” then let us know we were in the right building and wing, but on the wrong floor of the same department. So she walked us down to the correct place where the further unravelling of our day began.

In the third dream, we drove into a vast medical complex of buildings and were caught up in some round-and-round you go set of roads that led us everywhere except to the door of the correct building. That did happen! And Mark ended up dropping me off in front of a large central building, going down the hill to park the car, and then when he returned we walked through endless connecting passageways until we were in the correct building and wing.

In the fourth and final dream, a group of departed relatives were standing in a long white hallway leading to a set of double doors and they were all shaking their heads silently as if to indicate no-no-no. But in the dream I walked past them, waved at all those familiar faces, and went through the doors only to be confronted by someone with the body of a woman, the head of a dog, and a barking voice. Trust me, I met that woman too. She was the one who shrugged, told me the wrong time to come back, and told me to take another pill.

Let’s be truthful, I’d certainly received lots of psychic warning in advance. But I did the right thing, went to the appointment as scheduled, and watched as it all unfolded in spectacularly unprofessional fashion.

But what if that unfolding farce kept me from harm? What if all of those loving faces in my visions, meditations, and dreams were there because I summoned them and they made certain that no one did their job badly, harmed me, or gave me incorrect treatment or results afterward? That is the strong and very peaceful conclusion that I have come to. And everything will probably go well when I am rescheduled.

And if it doesn’t? I’ll be right back here reporting to you, faithful readers, on my impressions of the true state of medical affairs in France!

©Deborah Harmes and ©A Wanderful Life
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Debacle In Toulouse aka The French Fluff Up Schedules

What I really wanted to say is that the much-respected French medical system can truly f*ck up schedules and impact people’s lives badly, but wait — I’m getting ahead of myself.

The day began well. In spite of a fairly sleepless night, I was up on time before dawn for the two hour trip to Toulouse to a strange hospital for a scary out-patient medical treatment. We got stuck in rush hour traffic, 6 lanes of gridlock, but still managed to arrive on the dot for my appointment check in at 9:15 AM. It all went downhill from there.

Mark had to drive me to the appointment because I had been told to take 2 oral morphine-blend capsules just as I left he house in the morning. I was prepared for the procedure and feeling no pain of any kind.

Morphine-blend capsules


But I stood in the hallway of the treatment wing feeling wobbly and stunned at the same time as the woman in charge of the department told me, “you don’t conform to our schedule.” What???

I pulled out my PRINTED appointment sheet and referral from my doctor here in St. Girons and, I swear to God, she shrugged. Then she told me to come back at 11:00 and by the way, take another morphine pill before I came back. Off to the cafe we went to kill an hour and a half and eat a yogurt to try and settle my stomach.

Arriving back in the treatment area 5 minutes early, we sat and waited and as the time began to slide by. Then I stood up and told Mark that something was not right — I could sense it. I went into the office and asked quite pointedly, “Quelle heure est mon rendez-vous?” (What time is my appointment?) Off she went down the hall and came back with the information that I was dreading, they MIGHT be able to fit me in after lunch — perhaps after 1 PM.

I’m usually quite a polite and respectful person, but I completely lost my temper and told her that it was the most f’d up thing I had ever heard of to both phone a patient AND send them a printed appointment by mail, have them drive a long distance for medical treatment, have the husband lose an entire day of work, somehow manage to NOT keep the appointment, and also to have the patient take unnecessary medication for pain. And I left as she stood there looking stunned that I had spoken up for myself.

As we drove home that afternoon after lunch, I had Mark swing by our local hospital and I related the entire sorry story to the local medical staff. The head nurse listened to my saga and I watched as her jaw became set with anger. She faxed my printed appointment to the administrative office in Toulouse and then called the hospital and absolutely shrieked at them on the phone! “Pourquoi?” (Why?) She was still angry when she hung up and she confirmed that I did just the right thing to walk out because they had plainly lost my appointment and they had no intention of working me into their schedule that day. Such incompetence! Aaarrrggghhh!!!

If my posts are a little thin on the ground in the coming weeks, it’s because I’m dealing with a few challenges right now. For those of you who were already in the loop, thanks for the many notes and good wishes. They are greatly appreciated.

And readers, I will keep you posted on the follow-up to this ‘Debacle In Toulouse’ story and any other relevant tidbits.

Bye for now!

©Deborah Harmes and ©A Wanderful Life
Please respect the words and images on this page.
All rights reserved.