MOLIBLOG

Having moved home 7 years ago I thought it was about time to change my GP instead of making the epic trip back to Mordor every time I had a sore head or bottom… Essentially it was time for the Doctor to regenerate.  I looked around the local area and decided on a practice in Docklands called, ermm… The Practice.  I’m sure better names were on offer like ‘The Medical Wonders Room’ or ‘Easy and straightforward Healthcare ‘R’ Us… but ‘The Practice’ is what they decided was the best name for a doctors surgery.  I guess it doesn’t really matter but anyone who wants to practice healthcare on me can go ‘forget themselves’ as they say in pre 9pm action movies.  My first visit was simple enough if you don’t mind being asked every question every thought of by mankind and trying to work out how much alcohol I drink every night then converting it into units.  I felt like I was doing one of those math’s exams where you have to work out how many buckets of water Jane has left after an hour of being smacked in the face with a wet kipper and standing on one leg.  I gave up thinking about such questions a long time ago and in this case I felt it better to go with the answer less likely to cause me to face any Guantanamo Bay style interrogations about my drinking habits and went with, 1 drink a month.  To be fair, they never actually asked me how big the glass was or whether it was half full or half empty, and anyway, the nice lady behind the desk seemed to accept that I was a tee total, salad eating exercise freak that clearly didn’t need a doctor and she took my registration details and assured me that my medical notes would transfer over in two weeks.  Now, being such a healthy person that never gets sick I felt that I’d never really need to see the GP and looked forward to never going any time soon.  Then, in one month I got the worst Flu ever contracted by humans.  Even Bird Flu would have been a welcome relief from the long slow death that was MoliFlu.  Then I got Norovirus, which as I mentioned in my previous writings, turned my body inside out.  Then I got ‘A Bout of Gout’ so severe my foot actually exploded. This might actually sound a little like an exaggeration but its all true.  I was a poorly chap. Now, you would excuse me for wanting to visit my doctor and maybe asking for some sort of medical help.   So, I called up and asked for an appointment.  This would appear to be an inside joke at ‘The Practice’ and after ten minutes of continuous laughter I was told that before the doctor could see me I had to see the nurse for a medical check up.  I did try and explain that I knew that I was sick and that my Flu ridden, Inside out body with an exploded foot was proof of this.  However, Dorothea Binz (look her up) on the reception desk said that I really had to see the nurse for the health check.  After several hours of pleading I gave in and agreed to see the nurse.  What time do I come along I asked.  Oh, we are fully booked came the response.  Try again tomorrow. I returned to my pain and suffering and called for several days, getting nowhere fast.  I eventually threatened biological warfare on them, which basically means taking a dump through their letterbox.  Given my liquid state that was considered too much of a threat and I was offered an appointment to see the nurse in two weeks time or I could go to the walk in centre at the local hospital and as you all know, this isn’t an alternative given the Belsen level conditions at most NHS hospitals.  So, I took the appointment and waited as my symptoms got better naturally without the aid of modern medicine, which would have made it painless and quicker for me to return to work as a productive employee.  The two weeks came by and I went along to meet the nurse for my health check.  I had thought about taking her some sort of offering, maybe a recently slaughtered lamb or a fruit basket to show my respect to this deity. I decided that this would be either messy or difficult to carry and went empty handed.  I waited for ages and ages as name after name flashed across the dot matrix machine display screen like those found in a dodgy mobile phone store. ‘ We unlock your phone.’ On a side note, I must say that I was shocked to discover the poor health of the Asian and Eastern European communities, as there names flashed up constantly while I waited for my turn to meet the great one. Poor people.  As it turned out, The Great One was a little lady that looked rather stressed and when I walked into the room, she was busy clearing away needles that she said had nothing to do with her and was a little scared as to where they had come from.  I pointed out that not only should she be worried about the pile of needles but maybe she should also be a little scared of the open pot of piss on the table.

She tried to excuse the condition of the room and the needle and piss fest, as not being her normal room and that she really had no idea who had left it like this. I accepted this as my will was already broken and started the exciting process of being health checked.  First up was, How much do you drink?  Now, I thought for a second and said.  Haven’t you asked me this before?  She seemed a little confused by this and I just said, 1 drink a week.  She then took my height and weight.  She asked me some family history questions and that was it.  I looked hard into the tiny eyes of this tiny women and thought for a second.  Then I came out with a question that can only be asked if you have been through hell to get to this point of the story. ‘Why couldn’t you ask me all this on the phone? She looked even more confused at this comment and just carried on typing into her fairly dusty and ageing computer.  As time passed slower than watching an open bottle of piss evaporate on a dusty desk I ask ‘if that was it?’ She agreed that our visit was concluded and I thanked her for the efficient use of both our times. I then asked for some medicine as my stocks after this time had started to run fairly low. However, I might as well have asked for some Thalium or other rare element. The reply from the nurse was simple.  Oh, you have to see the doctor to get those.  Okay, I said with a positive and upbeat approach. Lets go see the doctor.  Oh, you can’t do that.  You need to make an appointment…. I give up.

M