Sometimes a bad day just happens
Sometimes it is just a bad day
Sometimes a bad day just happens. This time the reasons were entirely out of my control. Just a simple trip up to London to see my MS consultant at the Royal London hospital. It all sounds easy enough. 11.00 appointment so I would expect to be back at home by 2.30 at the latest. If only that had happened instead of a series of unfortunate incidents.
The start of the day went smoothly
I caught the 9.00 train from Faversham, settled into my seat and listened to my book. At 10.00 the train stops at Stratford International where the access staff put down a ramp so I can get off the train. Now mobility-scoot through Westfield shopping centre and catch an Elizabeth Line train from Stratford to Whitechapel.
Westfield shopping centre
As I leave the shopping centre my attention is caught by a homeless man getting to his knees and emptying the contents of his stomach onto the pavement. There was nothing I could do to help. Hello to the seedier side of London. No fun for him either I thought to myself.
Stratford to Whitechapel
I was discombobulated by the homeless man being sick and found myself on the platform at Stratford to catch an Elizabeth Line train going towards Essex. The guard pointed out the error and said I needed to change platform. I moved to the correct platform, now I just needed to find a member of staff who could arrange a ramp so I could get onto the train but none were to be seen. Just before the second train rolled into the station someone appeared carrying a ramp. At Whitechapel the train is wheelchair accessible from the platform, all so much easier.
Waiting for the consultant
I arrive for my 11.30 appointment with about five minutes to spare. Sixty five minutes later, yes an hour after the appointment time, I get into see my consultant. At least he has the decency to apologise and my consultation lasts for twenty five minutes, not the usual fifteen minutes which is my entitlement. At the end he asks me to go for a blood test which is in a different department at the same hospital.
Bad day
I arrive at reception to give a blood sample just after 1 pm and eventually find someone who can help me. He takes my details then tells me there is a wait of about one hour. My name will appear on the screen telling me where to go for the blood test .At about 2.15 my name appears on the screen and by 2.30, an hour and a half later I can think about going home.
Whitechapel to Stratford
At Whitechapel station I need to tell someone from the Elizabeth Line that I must be met at Stratford by someone with a ramp. Two trains come and go and I don’t see anyone who can help. What is a man on a Travelscoot mobility scooter to do? At train number three my patience is exhausted so I take a gamble and get onto the train. Luckily there is someone at Stanstead who has a ramp so I can get on to the platform but it was a close run event. Suddenly staff appear on the platform and tell me off. I get the feeling that none of them believe my story about no staff at Whitechapel. At least the trip from Stratford to Faversham is trouble free.
Now it really is bad day
When I return to Faversham the news is dreadful The lift has broken in the last hour and I am given 2 options.
- Catch a train to Sittingbourne and a taxi will bring me back to Faversham.
- Catch a train to Herne Bay where staff will help me to catch a train back to Faversham that stops at a platform with a functioning lift.
Neither option appealed to me. I was dog tired and just wanted to get home. I persuaded the station staff that with help I can manage to get down the stairs, the travel scoot only weighs 17 kg so its easy to carry down. Fifteen minutes later mission accomplished. Sometime around six I stagger into the bungalow, absolutely exhausted. Sometimes a bad day really does just happen and it was not my fault, just too much anxiety, stress and unexpected problems. Put it another way, shit happens.
August 2025
Associated incidents
Just another little fall
Sometimes I Feel So Fragile
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