Just back from a day trip to London for Chantal’s pre-operation consultation for her next corrective eye treatment. More of this shortly.
As is traditional when we are clockwatching, I took the dogs for a morning walk and was out for longer than I should have been resulting in a rushed trip to Barwell to drop off the dogs with Dave at “Best Buddies”, and an 80 mph dash along the A5 to Rugby where we had booked tickets on the 09.59 train to Euston. We drove up to the station at 08.40, with plenty of time to spare. Car park 1 was full, car park 2 was full and car park 3 could not be found despite circumnavigating the area. We found a large “overflow” car park owned by a shop, which, surprisingly offered parking at a reasonable cost, and arrived on the platform 4 minutes before the train.
Arriving in London we had time to spare for “food-on-the-run” and I decided to try the smart phone navigation to find a McDonalds. The phone duly guided us around three sides of a large square passing Euston station, shortly after leaving it. I realised that my phone thought that we were in a car and had guided us safely around a one way system. We returned to the station to take the underground instead, and on arrival at Oxford Circus we took the precaution of asking directions to the nearest McDonalds. After only a slightly hurried meal, we left the restaurant and we asked our phones to direct us to Harley Street, our ultimate destination. My phone advised turning right. Chantal’s phone’s preferred option was to turn left. Chantal’s phone proved accurate, and we arrived at the clinic (which in fact turned out to be a glorified branch of Optical Express) in plenty of time, although we needn’t have worried – thanks to an administrative cock-up, I mean error, she was booked for the wrong consultation, and we were kept waiting for the right one.
After a series of eye-scans, a young lady went through the procedure with us. Chantal was to have her existing lenses removed, and replaced with plastic ones. Neither of us was comfortable with the consultation, which felt more of a sales pitch, with the risks only vaguely discussed. After discussing the side effects (glare from lights at night), the reason for this, and Chantal’s particular eye characteristics ( large pupils), it became clear that although the 1% risk of side effects was emphasised, Chantal’s risk of side effects was considerably higher. The consultant didn’t point this out – we realised it for ourselves, but the “consultant” did agree that this was the case, although couldn’t quantify it.
While waiting to see what dates were available Chantal overheard another patient in the waiting room, and it was clear that he had problem’s, which he was happy to discuss – a botched lens exchange treatment to remove the need for reading glasses resulted in the loss of both distance and close vision. He was not at all happy with the way that Optical Express had treated him. A lady with him turned out to be a bit of a campaigner for Optical Express customers who had suffered problems, but she had been warned that if she discussed this with any other customer, she would be escorted from the premises. It then became apparent that another customer in the waiting room was also having problems after the sort of operation that Chantal was planning.
So let’s consider the facts. Administratively Optical Express cannot organise a drinking event in a brewery. 2 out of about 30 people in the clinic were there because of problems. This could be explainable (anyone without problems wouldn’t be there), but it appears that Optical Express like to keep the failures secret. If I had been managing the clinic, the problem customers would have been seen very very quickly, and not left waiting. And they are trying to rush Chantal into making an appointment. Chantal spent the journey home browsing the internet, and is considering her position…
Technically we live in Oaktree House, but sadly the tree had to go.
We now have a thriving Oakstump at the front of the house.
