Pulling the car into the Health Centre on Monday morning I was more than a little startled to see a queue of patients waiting to check in to my early surgery. At least a dozen individuals were present, some of whom had been seen but a short while previously (for example I had ministered to Mrs Fenton-Wicket’s troublesome unstable angina only November last, and old John couldn’t possibly be in need of more oxygen – why, it was surely only July that I prescribed his previous cylinder?).
I have observed on many occasions that the beginning of the week has a strange effect on the populace of Foxton Northfield (for those unacquainted with the area, our small market town lies just to the south of Upper Polyp in the shadow of the Asbestos-Plaque Hills) – perhaps a weekend’s recreation stirs something in the humors effecting a deep desire to consult with a General Practitioner before Monday morning is out?
Striding purposefully into my consulting room I consulted the ledger revealing the morning’s list. The stories of some of my more interesting patients I recount below (having extracted the entries I made in their medical record) – you will appreciate that for reasons of confidentiality, I have changed my clients’ names so as to render them unrecognisable:
09:40 Mrs E Windsor – came for travel advice since embarking upon large tour of UK towns and cities. Obviously disappointed that a fit note annotated “work-related stress” excusing her from a trip to this year’s Royal Variety Performance was not forthcoming. Stormed out to waiting personal train.
10:10 Mr Bryce Forsuth – requested referral for NHS wig owing to current one being terribly unrealistic. Also had large abscess – but insisted on trying antibiotics rather than attending our local Surgical ward for incision and drainage. Reluctantly agreed, but if not better on Monday then strictly to come for lancing. District nurse Tess to visit Daley.
10:40 Anne D Lansleigh complains of difficulty hearing of late. It seems that despite those around resorting to ever more forceful communication, has exhibited an increasing tendency to inattention. We can but thank God that not employed in a position of responsibility where could perhaps cause significant and irreparable harm.
For some time now, as regular readers will be aware, I have suffered a consortia of symptoms such as nausea, lassitude and afternoon planning meetings featuring cramps and shifting dullness. Finally, it seems that, despite the lack of diagnostic tests available (and certainly ineffective and unrealistic management strategies) the diagnosis is clear: I have irritable GP syndrome.
The stories and patients referred to in this (and other) blogs are totally fictional. This blog is intended for comedic purposes only.