So I coughed my way into the surgery this morning, earlier than my body wished, and was confronted by a friendly, efficient receptionist. She answered my few questions and without raising an eye answered patiently when asked if this nurse had a police record. The negative answer was encouraging but I always wonder if receptionists tell the truth.
With visions of Hancock's 'The Blood Donor,' running through my mind I discovered the nurse, like all nurses, was personable, efficient, attractive and professional, as I expected. This being the NHS it was also free, not counting all the taxes I have paid over the years of course. A well run surgery in spite of crowded conditions. The immigrants into town in recent years, mostly from London it must be said, have led to overcrowding as people commute to work, the town being ideal for those with young families. At one point the surgery closed itself to new folks signing on as they could not cope.
Today the modernised surgery abounds with electronic gadgets, my computerised medical record (sold by this government without our permission to who knows who), a machine to gauge my (higher than it ought) Blood pressure plus a small gadget ("I don't know what makes it work," she said encouragingly) used to measure the blood, cholesterol good and bad, and other things. The blood pressure was up, possibly it was the fear of a needle, but all else was as expected. The result she said gently and with great care, is that I am a big fat slob! The list of banned foods (cheese, no more cheese - I'll die!) is enormous, the exercise I must now increasingly indulge in is well,... impossible! All I have to do is lose two stones of ugly fat, by tomorrow or she said I must report to Mr Robinson in Manor Street.
Mr Robinson is an undertaker.
Oh yes, and she booked me in to see her friend in a fortnight, and booked it herself 'in case I forgot!' My blood pressure is rising again...
I began my exercise straight away after a small lunch. Well after a small lunch actually. I wandered around the town, the first time for a week, and felt knackered! How can I be like this?
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6 comments:
I'm glad to hear (well, see by reading your words) that you finally went for a check-up, Mr. Ad-Man.
I hope you do follow the advice given you; I'm sure you will. :)
Well I am so glad you made it to the surgery ~ even if the diagnosis was what was to be expected. I will be your exercise buddy. If you go for a walk every day, I will too. How does that sound?
do you have blogger?
Lee, Advice, I got a letter today calling me in for more tests, that's TWO more bullying nurses to see.
Carol, Walk? er, I suppose I must. Where do we meet?
Soub, I certainly don't have Jogger!
Again, what is it that you are supposed to be keeping stiff?
Jerry, You!
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