Monday, January 26, 2015
Receptionist: … And when you’re finished with the doctor you can sit here and have some breakfast.
I glance at the ‘breakfast area’. It consists of cereal bars, porridge and various teas. I’d noticed a Greggs across the street. I know what I’ll be doing.
After a while I’m invited into the examination area of the local Private Healthcare office my employer pays for. It is a condition that I come here every six months.
The very nice doctor explains that she is about to give me a full check-up.
Doctor: Are you bothered by me taking blood – are you ok with needles? And do you mind if I stick my finger up your bum?
I’m not in love with people sticking needles in me to be honest. As such, it’s a given that I’m not fond of people sticking anything anywhere else.
Me: I’m sort-of used to it so I shan’t pass out or anything. The needle thing I mean. And I’ve had my colon checked [10 years ago but she didn’t need to know] so I’m fine without that.
She checked my height, weight and blood pressure. She calculated my BMI. She did a load of other things I don’t fully understand. She took some blood. And then some more as she spilt it over the floor the first time. And it hurt like hell.
The verdict is that I am absurdly fit and well. I begin to suspect she is not a real doctor.
Doctor: When’s the last time you checked for testicular cancer?
Me: Erm. [I’m assuming she’s referring to MY testicles and is not assuming me to be very philanthropic and have been checking random gentleman left-right-and-centre]. Dunno.
Doctor: Well I’d best have a look. Do you mind?
I’m confounded. I’ve already said ‘no’ to the ‘finger up the bum’ suggestion so it actually feels REALLY RUDE to say ‘no’ to anything else. And she’s been perfectly polite about the whole thing. I don’t feel I can do anything but agree.
Me: Em. Ok.
Doctor: Drop your trousers and pants – get on the couch.
Some time passes.
Doctor: Well. They’re fine.
Five minutes later I’m in Greggs with a bacon sandwich and a cup of tea.