As everybody knows, getting to see a doctor is no easy task in these barmy times, especially if you live in a small village with one road in and out, a couple off to either side and not very much going on in between; just a single pub, a grocery store and a prefab surgery, where our Doctor P works singly in looking after a population of 1250. Anyway, after an enjoyable Christmas with family and friends, I came down with something and needed to make the call…
“Hello,” I said, “I’m phoning to make an appointment with Doctor P.”
“Ah,” said the receptionist, “I’m afraid he’s ill.”
“Oh dear,” I replied, “What seems to be the problem?”
“I don’t know,” she said, perfunctorily, “he just phoned in sick.”
“Sounds like it won’t be the best of starts for his new year then?”
“Indeed,” she replied, “there appears to be a bug going around.”
“I know,” I said, “I think I’ve got it.”
“Mmm,” she said, without commitment.
While genuinely concerned about Doctor P, I wondered what this meant for me, and whether it was likely I’d get seen in the near future. But I didn’t want to come across as selfish, so asked the question like this…
“However,” I said, deliberately, “what do you advise re the prognosis going forward?”
“It’s difficult to tell,” she said, “all I can suggest is you call next week to see how he is.”
“I will,” I said. And then, as I prepared to end the call, I found myself saying, “I hope he gets well soon.”
1 thought on “2023 Prognosis”
Medical conundrum Mark. FYI, my dad’s doctor won’t visit him, despite his inexorable decline (my dad’s, that is). Using a mobile phone video I sent, of Dad asleep, he prognosed (right word?) that my old man may not last more than 4 weeks. Mind-blowing. You can only conclude that our NHS is well and truely shafted.
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