Was that me?

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Use the intercom or get up and summon your patient in person. A huge decision each GP must face when they secure a small magnolia room of their very own. I think I prefer the intercom. It saves the humiliating walk behind the doctor as they march back to their domain while you try and keep up so as to see which room they dart in to.

All too often you see the amature waiting room guest leisurely returning their 14 month old Prima magazine to the rack only to find they’ve already lost their leader to the darkened corridors.

This is not to say that the intercom is without its problems. Sound quality. They are hardly Bang & Olufsen speakers. Nothing is more awkward than hearing your name “to room 6 please” only to realise it’s not just you who’s got up and is now heading in that direction.

For my own boredom shattering enjoyment I am grateful that the toilet is next to room 6. Wait for “Joe Bloggs to room 6 please” and decide at that exact moment you need to go. The confusion and self doubt in Mr Bloggs eyes make it all worth while.

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Family outing to radiology

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There aren’t many seats in the waiting room for the MRI so why 2 patients brought an entourage is beyond me. West African lady had her 3 grown up daughters there, all trying to out do each other with their knowledge of their mother’s ailments, drug times, eating habits and food preferences – all while oblivious to her repeated request for a drink of water.

Jam-Jar glasses had brought 2 further generations bored out of their mind with him. Each one more concerned than the next with how one of the absent family members, Steve, would cope cooking his own tea while the rest of them took up all the seats in the MRI waiting room.

Flat cap and his wife

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Man in flat cap with slip on shoes is very concerned about the pot holes at the entrance to the surgery. His wife is uttering sighs of someone who has heard it all before and knows she will hear it all again. Flat cap explains that unless you’ve got a “Chelsea tractor” you will lose a wheel. Flat cap’s wife musters a little giggle when he mentions there may soon be gnomes with fishing rods sat by the holes.

Flat cap goes on to worry about Dave and his attempts to clean out his garage. What an earth will he do with all those boxes of plastic? Doctor calls him, wife follows him in. I hope they get out of the carpark OK.

Morphine again

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Another load of cash exchanged for prescriptions. Luckily one of them is morphine so I will no longer be in agony. Downside, from my last experience with Oramorph, is the Swiss cheese brain.

The world seems to be happening around me. I’m in a room, I don’t know why. I’m half way through writing a text message but I don’t know who it’s too. At least I’m not in pain.

District nurse arrives. She’s planning her wedding. Spotted that I was and still am a “mrs” when she read my case notes and we’re of similar ages. We exchange wedding planning experiences and I reassure her that while she’ll never please everyone, she’ll still have a wonderful day. In current state I can’t really remember mine though.

Match of the Day on morphine was an altogether more pleasurable experience.

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