Mad Cook
Master Chef
My doctor in Hyde has retired so I have signed up with a practice in Marple where I now live. (NB Over here you go to the General Practitioner/Family Doctor as the first port of call and then you are referred if necessary to the specialist department at the hospital).
Went for first visit to new Doctor yesterday. Nothing serious - just a repeat prescription for my gastric reflux and advice on my foot which is causing shoe problems (16 year olds may look glam and trendy on a hot summers day wearing sheepskin boots with a cotton frock but at my age you just look slightly mad.)
Doctor was about fourteen years old and didn't look further than my silver hair. Started going on about me being on the verge of a "serious" age change. Eh? What? Apparently, in February next I will be 65 and I will instantly start falling apart at the seams. In order to fend this off I need 'flu and pneumonia vaccinations IMMEDIATELY. If I didn't have them NOW I will DIE. I discovered how seriously he was taking this when I took the prescription to the pharmacist and discovered he'd only given me 4 weeks tablets. I've always had 8 weeks-worth in the past. Perhaps I'd better start putting my affairs in order.
He wasn't the least interested in my foot (which hurts and I can only wear my sheepskin boots or my wellingtons). Just burbled on about dangerous operations and danger of scarring (on my foot - who cares?) and DEATH! The fact that I'm going to have to walk round on it for the next 30 years didn't seem to be important.
I can see I'm going to have my work cut out in training this one! I deliberately went wearing (clean) riding breeches, etc., so he wouldn't write me off as just another senile old bat who is going to be a drain on resources but I got the distinct impression that he was mentally measuring me up for my coffin!
Come out of retirement, Dr Proctor, PLEASE! (He always treated me like an intelligent woman.)
Went for first visit to new Doctor yesterday. Nothing serious - just a repeat prescription for my gastric reflux and advice on my foot which is causing shoe problems (16 year olds may look glam and trendy on a hot summers day wearing sheepskin boots with a cotton frock but at my age you just look slightly mad.)
Doctor was about fourteen years old and didn't look further than my silver hair. Started going on about me being on the verge of a "serious" age change. Eh? What? Apparently, in February next I will be 65 and I will instantly start falling apart at the seams. In order to fend this off I need 'flu and pneumonia vaccinations IMMEDIATELY. If I didn't have them NOW I will DIE. I discovered how seriously he was taking this when I took the prescription to the pharmacist and discovered he'd only given me 4 weeks tablets. I've always had 8 weeks-worth in the past. Perhaps I'd better start putting my affairs in order.
He wasn't the least interested in my foot (which hurts and I can only wear my sheepskin boots or my wellingtons). Just burbled on about dangerous operations and danger of scarring (on my foot - who cares?) and DEATH! The fact that I'm going to have to walk round on it for the next 30 years didn't seem to be important.
I can see I'm going to have my work cut out in training this one! I deliberately went wearing (clean) riding breeches, etc., so he wouldn't write me off as just another senile old bat who is going to be a drain on resources but I got the distinct impression that he was mentally measuring me up for my coffin!
Come out of retirement, Dr Proctor, PLEASE! (He always treated me like an intelligent woman.)
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