My Guide to Packing for Appointments

Nobody packs for appointments as well as I do. I really believe that. If I’d been allowed to join the guides when I was eleven (which is a whole other, tragic story of injustice in a Northern town) then I’d have been ace. I’m so prepared. I know just what to take with me, for how long the ordeal is going to last. I really do win at appointments. 

To be fair, I’d had a lot of practice even before I started my own journey, attending medical appointments with other family members. I’ve already talked about why appointments take so long here so I won’t redo it, but anything which will help to keep you chipper is a good idea. I decided that although I was very lucky and had lots of supportive offers from family and friends to accompany me, I was going to attend my appointments alone whenever possible, to allow me to concentrate on myself; so I needed to be pretty self sufficient. 

My strategy is fairly simple in its main points really, although I have been known to add in other ideas as I go. The first thing that you really need to know is, do not be embarrassed about what you take with you. Who cares if you look like you’re heading off to Lytham for a picnic? You can do whatever works for you. I nearly always turn up to the hospital with my handbag and an extra tote bag containing the things I think I might need. Do I look like a forgotten character from a Victoria Wood pilot show? Possibly. Do I spend my time in the waiting room relatively cheerful and content? Yes, usually. Believe me, whether folks in the waiting room are shooting you confused looks as you take over two seats (only do this if it’s quiet, you’ll cause an understandable riot if not, you do have your “stuff” with you, but you aren’t entitled to two seats any more than the rest of the world). Those looks will soon turn to looks of envy as you breeze through the waiting as though you’ve got better things to think about than the fact you’re ill. 

Point number two is make sure you have food and drink to last you longer than you think you’ll be there. I usually get enough things for being sat on an uncomfortable chair past a couple of mealtimes. There is nothing more upsetting than realising that you’re going to have to remortgage your house to buy a toffee crisp from the vending machine because you’ve been waiting hours and the hunger pangs mean your kind chaperone sister’s arm is starting to look like a good prospect to put you on until tea. So take real food, butties, leftover pasta, anything you might take for a pack lunch or picnic. Probably not Prosecco, darling. That said, I feel no shame about taking some treats with me. Crisps, chocolate, sweets, fruit (cherries are my favourite when they’re in season). Whatever floats your boat. This is indeed a rubbish experience, don’t make it worse by eating food you don’t like while you wait!

Three: take things to keep you occupied. 

Take anything you like, there’s no limits here except your space, the jigsaw roll probably won’t work. If you’re like me, take many things. I love reading, and always take a short story collection with me. Why short stories? Because I can usually get a full one read while I wait, and if it’s a long appointment seeing different people, I might finish more. I like the quiet sense of achievement I can get from finishing a short story. As you glance at the ill-prepared you also get the slightly smug joy of being able to think to yourself…”see? Even as I sit here I’m completing things”. Whilst I adore reading however, it doesn’t always fit my needs, so I make sure that my phone is as fully charged as I can manage so that I can play banal games on it. I try and avoid social media until I’m home. A couple of days before you go, download a free puzzle type game, again because the short levels you can enjoy amongst the stop-start atmosphere of looking up every time a nurse shouts a name, even though it’s nothing like yours. I take some crochet with me, or a hook and some yarn at least. | can hook a granny square or two up while I sit, and the repetitive nature of crochet, is very soothing and relaxing, allowing me to almost ignore the dreadful daytime TV that’s on the screen. I’ve never fully understood why the sound is on the lowest setting with subtitles, it’s somehow more infuriating to almost be able to hear antiques being sold for less than their owner wanted for them. 

Dress for both the arctic and the desert, so that you can be comfortable whether you end up in the draft from the outside door, or gently melting next to the radiator. Layers are your friend. This point also extends to wearing clothes that are both comfortable and easy to remove/put on if you think you’ll be being examined. Wear clothes that you like too. I find it helps me to think I look too cool to be there. Or I think I do anyway, it’s a good way of explaining those “picnic” looks!

Finally, a serious one this, take whatever you need to be able to remember what the person you are seeing tells you on the day. You want to write down your questions on a piece of paper, and tick them off as you ask them? Do that. I write all my questions in a doc on my phone as I think of them, then I don’t forget any. If you want to make notes while you’re there, that’s ok. If you want to use your phone as a dictaphone and record the appointment, to look at it again later, you can. I mean, obviously, ask the people who are present before you start, but my experience is that they’ll be perfectly fine with it. Everyone understands how stressful it is, and how little you remember in those situations. 

Oh, and pound coins for the car park machine. Loads of them. Is there anything you’d add from your own experiences?