Doctor Doctor, Please

Ah! The latest in what just might be a string of posts using song lyrics. (This one is from UFO’s 70s rock anthem “Doctor Doctor”)

I’m keeping the NHS in work this morning with not one but two separate appointments with medical professionals.  This morning I’ll be at hospital for my third visit to Haematology.

It seems that my bone marrow produces too many platelets, this makes my blood too thick and probably was the cause of my TIA back in the summer. I’m not really surprised that my blood is thick, it’s just like the rest of me.

Then at 4pm it’s my annual diabetes check up with the scary nurse from the doctors’ surgery. Actually she’s only scary because she manages to tell me I eat too many biscuits in a really nice way. I refuse to acknowledge that I’m overweight, though. I always insist that I’m under height for my weight. Mind, the ideal height for my weight is probably about 11 feet tall.

I would expect that I’ll be kept waiting beyond my appointment time for both of these visits. This is one thing that always bugs me about almost every health appointment, whether at the GP surgery, the dentist or hospital. It seems that, as patients, we have unwittingly bought into the idea that these very busy, important health professionals are so busy that they will fit us in to suit them. Well, I’m also busy and my time is the most valuable thing I have and as I get older, I’ve got less of it to be wasted by other people. Every time I arrive – on time, I get a barrier worker (sorry, receptionist) telling me to take a seat. Normally I spend more time in her (and just why receptionists are almost always female?) company than I do in the company of the person that I actually came to see.

 Anyway, I am having the day off work, so maybe that waiting time won’t be quite so precious, especially if it’s an alternative to daytime TV.

Ride Safe


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