Thursday, 6 February 2020

Close Encounter Of The Medical Kind

I went to hospital yesterday. It was a routine visit to check that I still had a sense of humour.

At the waiting-room I took a ticket with a number on it from the dispenser and waited for my number to appear on the big screen overhead. Meanwhile I read some of the newspapers lying around. Terrible news about that ship called the Titanic sinking. There was no mention of it on the TV News but there it was as a headline in the newspapers.

Eventually my number came up and I entered the doctor's insulting room.

As soon as he saw me he asked, "Are you a private patient who will pay for treatment or are you on the Government's Free Treatment Scheme?"

I asked, "What's the difference?"

He said, "If you're on the Government Scheme I am allowed to insult you and hurt you!"

"Oh ... In that case I am a private patient," I said.

"OK ... sit down fish face!" he replied.

I was upset by what he called me and I protested, "I thought you would not insult me if I am a private patient!" I exclaimed.

"I am allowed to insult you," he replied, "because I don't like you. We doctors do as we like. We confuse people with science and they believe us!"

"But how about doctors having a good bedside manner and being kind and caring and sympathetic?" I asked.

"Oh that's all phooey!  Just nonsense to advertise the profession and attract new people to become doctors. In reality we doctors can do anything. From when we take the hypocritical oath we can miss-diagnose, give the wrong but more expensive treatment, or do unnecessary operations; and all our mistakes are buried six feet deep!"

I was astounded at his laissez-faire attitude, and he wasn't even French. I thought I'd better say nothing in case I made a faux-pas. 

"What seems to be the problem fish face?" he asked.

"Well ... I keep thinking I am a dog!" I said hesitantly.

"And when did this start happening?" he asked chewing on a KFC chicken leg.

"Ever since I was a puppy," I replied.

He threw the chicken leg in the corner of the room to see if I would go and fetch it. I hesitated. I nearly did go after that leg. Because I like KFC. But I resisted the temptation.

He was disappointed. "Get on the couch!" he commanded.

"I am not allowed on the couch," I said whimpering.

He brought in a nurse and they both tried to lift me onto the couch.
But I was too heavy for both of them to lift me. I wriggled and struggled not wanting to go on the couch in case I got told off. So they brought in another nurse to give me an injection to calm me down.
At this point I shouted, "All right!!! All right!!! I am not a dog. Now let me go!"

They did ... and the doctor asked the nurses to leave as I scratched behind my ear with my leg.

He sat down and asked calmly, "OK ... you are not a dog! What seems to be the matter then?"

"I feel a bit run down." I said.

"I'm sure the police will catch the driver who ran you down," he replied. "When did it happen?"

"Oh ... yesterday evening, a mile up the road from here," I told him.

"Did you have a good look at the car which ran you down?" he asked.

"No," I said, "But I can tell you exactly which tires he had. He left an imprint all over my shirt!"

"Are these the clothes you were wearing at the time?" he asked looking me up and down.

"Yes, why do you ask?"

"Because I have found a piece of cloth exactly like the shirt you are wearing caught in my front car bumper!" he declared.

"That's a coincidence," I said, "you must have driven past a few minutes after my accident and the torn cloth from my shirt got caught in your car!"

"Yes ... that's probably what happened," he mumbled . "What did you do after the accident?"

"I went home and watched the football on TV," I told him.

On hearing this he put his hands on his ears and shouted, "say no more ... say no more ... I have recorded the game and I have not watched it yet!"

"What about me feeling run down? What shall I do?" I asked him.

"I suggest you go home and destroy the shirt you are wearing," he advised, "and all will be well."

I got up and thanked him, picking up the remainder of the KFC leg from the floor.

As a special favour he reduced my private patient's bill which came to £126.


  1. Wow. Your 'two-tier' National Health System sounds pretty nightmarish; but, has it yet got a "Medical Assistance in Dying" (MAiD) Law -- like here, in Canada? Canada's "Universal Health Care" system is NOT 'two-tiered' yet; but I think it may be heading in that direction. As a 'poor' senior with multiple health conditions, I now refuse to go to an Emergency Room anymore. The last 2 times I had to go, I was asked by medical staff -- several times during those 2 'visits' -- whether or not I wanted to "access MaiD". When I emphatically replied "NO", some of the staff appeared to be 'surprised' or 'shocked', and even somewhat 'confused' that a 'poor' person of my age, with so many health issues would NOT consider being 'drugged to DEATH' to be 'preferable' to 'living' with my particular 'medical issues'!!
    P.S.: Thanks for praying for those 'who comment'! I know that I need all the prayers I can get -- just to make it to my 'natural death'.
    P.P.S: If such a law as 'MAiD' is NOT in Britain yet; please DON'T EVER LET SUCH A 'LAW' AS THIS HAPPEN IN BRITAIN -- OR ANYWHERE ELSE IN THE WORLD!

    1. I am so sorry to hear about your medical issues, Suzanne. I will surely pray for you. May the Lord be always by your side and give you courage and strength at this difficult time in your life.

      God bless you always.

  2. What breed of dog looks like a fishface?

    A Bassethound.

    1. Yes I like it. Either that or a dogfish shark. They have no sole you know. If one is ever bitten by a shark the best remedy is to pee on the wound. Bu that's another kettle of fish. A red herring you might say. We're having a whale of a time here, JoeH.

      God bless.

  3. Only you can make a visit to the doctor entertaining, Victor! Oh, and my copy of "A Cup of Humour" arrived today. :) It's in a queue of books I have lined up, but will get to it soon.

    1. Thank you Martha. I really hope you enjoy "A Cup Of Humour". It made me laugh anyway. When I write I usually don't laugh until I get to the punch line, because I don't know how the joke will end.

      God bless you, Martha. And thanx.

  4. Still chuckling about that newspaper account of Titanic. An insulting room? The hypocritical oath? Like Martha observed, this is a really entertaining post!

    1. Why is it doctors and dentists always have out of date newspapers and magazines? Why is it that hairdressers always ask about your holidays? Why is it we always ask taxi drivers, "Been busy?" At least in the UK we do. Why is it that stones and pebbles come in different sizes?

      These, and many other questions, cross my mind every day. And there's no one to answer me. Why is that?

      Keep smiling, Mevely. And God bless you.



God bless you.