I made an appointment to see my GP. I specifically said to the receptionist that I wanted blood tests, so she said I must come in in morning surgery. Tuesday morning. I waited an hour to see the GP, but, actually, that's unusual - there may have been an emergency for all I know. Fair enough.
The woman in front of me emerged with a face like thunder. I managed about two sentences before the doctor interrupted me and said "It's depression - do you want another two weeks off?" I was so shell-shocked I didn't manage to mention the blood tests. Afterwards I was furious, and then, crying. I mean, bloomin' heck, if someone like me who is a intelligent articulate and educated trained professional bureaucracy buster, with an accumulated total of over twenty five years experience in confronting bureaucracy can't cope, how are ordinary people supposed to?
So today, I finally summoned up the energy to go to Victoria Station to the private walk-in clinic there. I was knackered by the time I go there - admittedly, I did go via Liberty at Oxford Circus to buy a crochet hook and a how-to-crochet book.
And, I think, I have spent some money wisely. Basically the equivalent of what I spend in three weeks - or less- in the coffee shops and sandwich bars near the office. I had time with the doctor, and was able to cite various aspects of my medical history. He carried a fairly superficial physical examination, and said that my thyroid feels enlarged. He took blood samples and ordered various tests, including full blood count, hormones etc. The results should be back Tuesday-ish.
I feel psychologically better for having done that, and, of course, wish that I could be more assertive with my GP surgery. However, I have said before and said again, that they are so overwhelmed with the diseases of poverty that they really don't have time for the middle-classes. I keep thinking of changing, but fear going from the frying pan into the fire.
Now I'm off to the world wide web to read up about hyper-thyroidism.
And I managed to give the doc a good tip. He's newly arrived from South Africa and saw what I had bought in WH Smiths - a part work of Opera DVDs for £10.95. This week it's Angela Gheorgiu/Georg Solti's Traviata, and Cecelia Bartoli in The Barber of Seville. There's a further thirty listed on the back, from Carmen (with Baltsa and Carreras) and Aida (with Domingo and the Met) to Pique Dame (with Gergiev and the Kirov) and Siegfried (with Jerusalem, Behrens and Levine). You can't really go wrong. Well, okay, there's three with Pavarotti, which is probably at least two too many. But, you know what I mean innit.
