Friday, 22 February 2008

Feeling a bit funny

I went to the doctors the other morning - (nothing serious - just to get a repeat prescription in case you were wondering. You were, weren't you? Nosey.) and got a nice early appointment so that I could be in work for my 10am start. As I said, there's actually nothing wrong with me, but by the time I left the place...I was feeling a bit queasy. This strictly doesn't come from where you'd expect, i.e. the coughing, spluttering gaggle of old women and men coming in for their flu jabs, or the sticky-fingered, snot-ridden children putting their clammy little hands all over the place. Bleurgh. It's more a combination of the three...and the magazines.

8:40am - in I rushed, and it was a rush because even though I left the house early, it took triple that time to find a bloody space. Why do doctors surgeries, invariably the busiest places in the surrounding area, with people coming and going all day in cars because they are germy and ill and cannot walk (apart from me, who was none of those things) have a grand total of about 10 parking spaces, with half of those taken up by the doctors themselves? Not only are there only 10 parking spaces, they are arranged in the most inconvenient layout possible; a kind of circular "ooh, here's an empty concrete space. Car park? Yeah, why not" arrangement. So much so that you are advised on entering the surgery to 'advise the receptionist if you are blocking other cars in'. As you can imagine, maneuvering your car around not only the small space, but the other cars who have also entered and discovered the lack of err, parking room can be a bitttt of a mission. And it makes you late for the appointment.
Anyway, next I have to tell the receptionist (who shows impressively low levels of double-barrel name management) know I have arrived..
Her: Name?
Me: Joanna Blahblah-Blahley
Her: see who?
Me: Dr Whoever
Her: Hmmmm. Can't find you. Joanna Blahblah was it?
Me: No, Jo Blahblah-BLAHLEY.
Her: Hmmmmmmmm. Jo Blahblah...
...and sit myself down in the waiting area, a suitable distance away from anyone looking remotely infectious and pick up a magazine. After a few minutes of dejavu, I check the front and the magazine (OK! or something) is from like 2005. Doesn't that strike you as a bit, err....unhygienic? I mean I'm a bit funny about reading the mags in doctors surgeries anyway...just after I've read a couple of pages I usually get a bit of a minging thought that the last person might have some horrid chicken pox or something. But come on... a magazine from 2005 means a whole three years of being fondled by germy hands in a doctors waiting room. That's one hell of a shelf life - no issue of OK! or Hello! should be around that long. It's bad enough without e-coli.
While we're on the subject of infections and I can't remember if I shared this before, but a few years ago I had mumps. My parents had gone skiing so a family friend took me to the doctors; I was puffy faced, infectious and a perfect size 16 from the neck up. I shit you not. I looked odd. So when we got there, the family friend stood at the reception and discreetly whispered "She's got mumps. Perhaps she shouldn't be in the waiting area around other people, is there another place she can sit and wait?"
And the receptionist looked at me then turned around to her sidekick. "SANDRA, SANDRA...THIS ONE'S CONTAGIOUS. IS THERE ANOTHER ROOM SHE CAN GO IN SO EVERYONE ELSE DOESN'T GET IT?" . If the people in the packed waiting room weren't looking at the girl with the fat face already, you can be sure they were after that.
And yes, I did get my own room to wait in. Good job, or I'd have been lynched by a germy, flu ridden, angry mob. And their clammy children.


James said...

Ha Ha... I know I shouldn't but I did laugh at the "Sandra, Sandra this ones contagious"

My docs surgery is exactly the same... next to 0 parking spaces.

Got any pics of the fat face? Just kidding. It wasn't funny right.

AFC 30K said...

Our village centre has just had a £30m makeover (it's a big village) but part of that was a new doctors surgery and dentists. Both very light and airey with oodles of space inside to keep away from screaming kids (I'm now guilty of adding to that problem). Also the parking is plentyful and free.

It makes going to the quacks a pleasure....

Clarissa said...

Nice! I'm going to use 'Eboli' for my next visit.

London-Lass said...

Perhaps there is some guy (I'm picturing a Franck Eggelhoffer type from Father of the Bride) who is paid to go round and design doctors surgeries layouts (inside & out)? For, your surgery sounds exactly like mine (well like mine did before they chucked me off their books). Down to the grotty yellowing mags. I think if I was given the choice of waiting half an hour in a morgue or a doctors' surgery it'd be tough. And my doctors' surgery appointment times never ever tallied up with when you were actually seen too. Make an appointment to see a GP at 3pm and it wasnt uncommon to not be called in til gone 5pm. Lovely stuff.

PS : Sorry to hear about the fat neck mumps contagion - I suffered from this at the age of 5. My mum (bless her) never tires of telling anyone (within earshot) how her daughter ended up resembling the FA Cup (the swelling made my ears stick out).

PPS : I have an even more embarrassing story re. overloud doc receptionists but as it involved a .. ahem .. `sexual accident' (nothing to do with shoving a milk bottle up a love tunnel before you ask) it's probably best left untyped.

Girl Vino said...

As I looked back over your last couple of posts I noted the expertise in which you ate icecream and read a book.I was suitably impressed! Next time you go to a doctors office, wear a scarf over your mouth and take your own book (preferrably in a contaminant free, plastic bag!) Make out you are as contagious as a contagious freak could be and NO ONE will sit next to you.

Miss Understood said...

I think deliberately making sick people sit in a small, hot room with other sick people is just one big scam to keep doctors in work.

Oh well, least your fat face was temporary. Some poor people are inflicted with it forever.

Reluctant Blogger said...

haha yes, that's why I never go to the doc's. When my children are ill I just tell them they will soon be better. And if I need anything I buy it (illegally if needs be). You get better advice re illnesses from the pharmacist and at least you can lurk outside the door there till all the sick people have gone and then hurtle in and ask for a diagnosis and rocket out with the medication or take a label with the name of it so you can order it on the internet.

Boy said...

I can't believe London Lass used the phrase Love tunnel!!
But I hate the doctors. Simply useless drug dispensing machines, or at least they have been for me. Gr.

theperpetualspiral said...

Frankly with a surname of "Blahblah-Blahley" I'm not the least bit surprised they had trouble!

I think all doctors surgeries are like this though, no matter where they are in the country.

Bec said...

I think I have every disease in the world attaching themselves to me considering the amount of time I've spent in waiting rooms recently.

I pretty much always take a shower as soon as I get back from the doctor's now - maybe they should all install decontamination zones at the doors?


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