Doctor Doctor gimme the News!

I've had a sore throat - lingering, simmering and annoyingly persistent. So I went to see my doctor. When I say 'my' doctor.. it's more a case of 'a' doctor. I go so very infrequently that I don't think I've seen the same doctor more than once and this time was no different.

Walking to the waiting room I near bumped into a rather tall strapping and good looking GP. We apologised as polite people do and took our respective paths only to come to the same entrance at the other side of the waiting room. He - Doctor, Me - Patient.

Immediate rapport, common ground established as we chuckled our way into his consulting room. I smiled at the thought of having such an excellent view whilst my rebellious tonsils were being examined. As a good friend often says 'Who wouldn't be delighted by that?' Certainly not me.

And then it happened.... mid consultation Doc S started chatting to me in a very familiar tone, and so he continued until eventually I had no choice but to confess by saying "I'm so sorry but I think you're mistaking me for someone else... you see I don't know you at all". He looked at me and grinned (I experienced a leg wobble at that point and thoroughly pleasant it was too!) Then he said "But I get your emails" I must've looked blank 'cos he continued "From RCGP - your emails!"

Ah I see... apparently he recognised my name on his e-bulletins that are sent out from the Faculty. And because of the conversational story tone of my emails, he felt like he knew me. Not content with leaving it there, he then proceeded to tell me all about his interest in training and this mushroomed into telling me about his wife (who was becoming a GP after 10+years as a registrar in the hospital) and that she had to start from scratch and that this was frustrating and that he had joined using the iMAP route and that he lived in Aberdeen which they liked and that this suited his wee one (who's art work was very impressive for her age!) and and and ... oh yes - he only gets 2 study days a year and that makes it difficult to get away to attend the educational days the College provide. and and and there's more, he also noted that we were looking for an Education lead but he couldn't apply cos he's not a member.... and that he was from the Isle of Bute and he was the only person to have studied at Aberdeen University from the Island and and and...

I felt like the cat with a white stripe in the Pepe le Phew cartoon! Looking longingly at the door... I thought about my escape. Doc S seemed oblivious to my hopes as I edged my way over to the door as he chatted away happily.... all the while holding onto my prescription like a ransom note!

I don't think I've ever found out that much about another person in such a short space of time. Let alone when I was sort of expecting the focus to be on me. Clearly I'm sending out a secret message to other people, saying " free therapy sessions here".... the question is HOW?

Doctor Dolittle talks to the animals...

Before setting out to work this morning, I was sitting in my office having just made a call when it happened. I shared what i can only describe as a 'moment' with one of my cats (Maggie). I'm not really an animal sorta person, in that I'm not over emotional about them and I only keep them to keep out the local gangs of feral mice. Cats are the lesser of two evils. The way I see it... cat's have bladder control which pushes them up the desirable chain.So I have cats.

Anyway, Maggie was sitting watching me at my desk with that look in her eye that said 'why don't you bugger off to work so i can root around in the kitchen for second helpings of breakfast?', when i heard a strange noise. Maggie could obviously hear it but neither of us recognise it. So we just sat staring at each other for a few seconds sharing the same thought '"What's that?" (I've never shared a moment with a cat before and i should probably worry about that more than I am)

Literally seconds later a big bumble bee floated in between us, bumbling "hello! Hello, can I live here with you?" Maggie got a scare and leapt up.. all four feet into the air at the same time before her hunting instincts kicked in to start her stalking the prospective lodger in earnest.

I managed to scoop the poor wee soul into a cup and empty it out the front door. But it seems that bumble bee's not only look a bit dozy, turns out they are. Ten minutes later when I was finally leaving for work I opened the door and it was still there bumping into the door! I had a word and said it should only come back when it learnt to ring the bell and no doubt feeling ashamed, it floated off.

Now I can't be sure of course, but on the way home I had to make a stop at a friends house on a different farm and as i pulled on to their track a bumble bee decided to hitched a ride down to the farm! I had to ask it to leave as it refused to sit still and put it's seat belt on and reluctantly it too flew off.

It seems that my animal magnetism is in full swing this week as I've been attracting all sorts of wildlife, including a rather persistent gull. I was walking out of a new shopping centre in town and had decided to have lunch on the hoof (excuse the pun). Laden with carrier bags and armed with a Markies sandwich I headed back to the car and as i pulled out the first triangle I rounded the corner of the bus station.

I was only two bites into enjoying the goods when a eagle eyed gull decided to take a closer look. Having swooped down it obviously realised ham and mustard was its favourite variety and readjusted its interest from 'passing' to 'infiltrate'.... I have to confess I'm a bit scared of birds so the appearance of a great big one at my right shoulder made me scream. Lucky for me and everyone else around me, the scream was muffled by the third bite of my sandwich. However, the spray from my open mouth obviously gave the gull a taste for more.

The gull knew i was running scared and every way i turned it appeared. Left, then right, then left again. Taunting me... willing me to drop my sandwich and run away. But I wouldn't give it up. The row of people waiting at the bus stops watched me with amusement as the gull and I danced the 'way of the sandwiches'. One smart arsed passerby shouted "don't feed the seagulls, its illegal!" Had i been less flustered i would've shouted back "Have a word with the gull, cos stealing is also illegal".

Eventually, I did what centuries of warriors have done... I hid, by running into a newspaper shop and panting declared to the startled shop assistant that I was saving my sandwich!

She gave me a curious look and a small smile and offered me a plastic bag to save my sandwich in! I couldn't face the explanation so I said 'thank you' and left.

Fun Floundering or just Carping On?

Some days are good and things trickle along swimmingly......

FISH FISH FISH FISH FISH FISH FISH FISH

But other days i find myself tripping over pedant after pedant.. mathematically speaking the chances of this anomaly are surprisingly inconsistent....

talking of pedants........

DIG DIG DIG DIG DIG DIG DIG DIG DIG DIG

what chemical substance do these people inhale?... reminds me of problem of Pi. No i'm not talking apple, rhubarb or chicken - tho' ... it's the excess of Pi more to the point. If Pi was only calculated to 47 decimal places, it would be enough to encircle the whole of the known universe with a margin of error of only the width of a single proton.

ANEMONE ANEMONE ANEMONE ANEMONE

You'd think that would be enough.. right?..... oh no.... some lovely people are driven to continue to calculate to over 50 billion decimal places!!...

FASTIDIOUS FASTIDIOUS FASTIDIOUS

I mean - why would anyone calculate and continue to calculate millions upon millions of an irrational and pointless number?.... What absurd personality trait drives any sane person to spend countless hours checking for 'right' numbers?....

MISDIRECTION MISDIRECTION

I guess the answer is simple and almost universal..... it makes them feel big n clever to point out the flaws in others.....

..............what a swell party this is!

Suitably Numb

I'd had made the appointment sometime time ago now. Squirreled away in my diary as a future event, made long enough in advance as to allow me plenty of time to come around to the idea that I needed a filling.

I'm not scared of the Dentist in the slightest - but I do need some time to psych myself up for the event. So swinging myself up the spiral staircase on F Day, I felt mentally prepared. Little did I know that my Dentist has been studying the many benefits of supermarket marketing strategies.

What started as one filling turned out to be - buy one get one free! The trouble was that one was on the upper left hand side and the other the upper right. I did suggest that I schedule another appointment but, ever the economist he insisted - No point wasting two appointments, and you're here now!

Two injections left me gagging at the residual taste and unable to feel most of my top lip and half my nose. I don't mind my lips being frozen, but I've found it to be the oddest sensation in the world - knowing that you're breathing but being unable to feel the air passing up one of your nostrils. I wasn't the only one who thought it was odd, my brain was experiencing involuntary bouts of mini panics that I wasn't getting air and couldn't breath.

This reminds me of the time when I was about 8 years old when I got a flat caramel toffee stuck to the roof of my mouth. Penny sweets in my day were large enough to feel like they could restrict your whole throat and i started to flick my tongue around the edges of the toffee trying to break the suction, when this had no effect I even started to run around in a panic. For a brief moment I felt like I was gonna die, Luckily salvation came before anyone else witnessed my swan song. As I had a Zen realisation which managed to penetrated the panic. That I could indeed save myself from the brink of death by just using my pinkie to flick the toffee off the roof of my mouth. Boy did I feel silly.

And so it was on with the business, which involved me being opened mouth and despite being as accommodating as I could physically manage, I began to suspect that my Dentist and his assistant had made a wager about how many pieces of equipment and fingers they could get into my mouth. Whilst I lay marvelling at the until then undiscovered Tardis quality of my mouth, I lay back and began to imagine that they were playing a reverse version of 'Dentistry 'Buckaroo'. How much could they really pack in there before she blows!

To add to the excitement throughout the procedure - questions were asked of me, which remained unanswered; rivulets of saliva ran down my chin as a well appointed waterfall; and my neck was twisted into positions that only the TV toothpaste brusher with the flip top head could master.

Once it was over my dentist nonchalantly asked "Are you OK?"' to which I replied, "NO, I've just had my filling ratio increased by 100%; half my face is numb and my mouth feels like its been stretched to look like Wallace's widest grin." His reply? - "So you're OK then" See you in six months!

Roll credits - join in next time for another thrilling episode of 'Dentistry Buckaroo!"