Doctors
Grandad April 21st, 2007
I’m a healthy enough individual for my age.
I have my little problems, but don’t we all?
As I grow older, bits start to drop off and I have to get them fixed on again. A bit like an old car. The rust is beginning to show.
When I was living in the suburbs, we had a doctor who lived just a few doors down. He was very handy, but he was one of the worst doctors I ever met. He knew his stuff all right, but he only had two interests in life - making money and becoming a politician.
I went to him once, as I needed a cert for work. He allocated each patient about five minutes, and for the entire session, he bitched about his overheads and his costs, and how he had to put his prices up yet again. Two days later, I saw him being interviewed on the television news - he was heading off to Cheltenham and was bragging about how he was going to have a great time backing all the horses!
I went to our local doctor yesterday. It was a routine visit. A case of gluing on the latest bits that had fallen off and checking oil levels and brake-fluid.
He is a different kettle of fish. He has only one interest in life - the care of the patient. He has a great sense of humour and we always have a laugh. He is one of those doctors that even if there is nothing wrong with you, you feel better after a visit.
Anyway. I had my visit and afterwards I met Herself for a coffee.
“Did you ask him about your short term memory problem?” says she.
Of course, I didn’t.
I forgot.
- Around the village
- Comments(15)
The picture is photo shop - isn’t it?
I can’t remember where I found it, but it has been gathering dust and cobwebs on my hard disk for a while. Untouched by human hands!
Ah the joys of ageing.I remember the colour of my first tricycle but have trouble remembering what I did last weekend! I have this theory that the brain retains all the important information and files the superfluous stuff in the backlot and if you can’t remember where you left your runners, you’re not meant to go jogging. As long as you don’t forget where your plonk and pipe are, or the names of your children you’re safe!
Lucky Dip Medication Time I fear!
Memory is a very strange animal. I write a diary [journal - it sounds more manly!] and have to write it on the day because I can’t remember details of yesterday!! But if I read back on my diaries and pick any random day, I can read the entry and remember every detail of that day.
Ask me what time I got up this morning - I forget.
Ask me what I was doing on the 21st April 1985 and I’ll write you a 5 page essay.
And I am forever putting my pipe down and forgetting where. Many happy evenings ripping the house asunder looking for that damned pipe!!
One of the reasons I got our K8 to blog is so that I can look up her name.
It’s bed-time for me but you’re a legend! Buy more than one pipe and put it in all the likely places. Now, where are my pyjamas?
Hi Grandad, I just found your blog today and I really like your posts. You are a very funny and good writer. I’ll stop back some more if I can remember your URL.
Welcome Brianf. It’s nice to see a new face.
Though I have a niggling feeling that I have seen your name somewhere before? That’s going to annoy me for the rest of the day now….
Incidentally, I do have several pipes, but I’m not sure where the other ones are.
Grandad,
I’m getting old,too! The other day a friend of mine mentioned that I sure try a certain Health food.
I told her, “The hell with that, I need all the preservatives I can get.”
That’s why I drink so much tea, Nancy. The tannin will keep me preserved for ever…..
Grandad,
What I want to know is:
When did my wild oats turn to prunes and Bran ???
Takes you all night to do what you used to do all night, huh?
The old ones are the best!
I remember when I got my first grey hair. It was about 2 months ago. I pulled it out. Problem solved. By god, the horror of turning 25 in a few months.
The beard turned grey some time ago [and I'm not going to get into a discussion as to whether the hat matches the handbag], but the thatch is only just beginning to turn.
My father had a great head of silver hair, so that seems to be my future.
Yes, 25 is the beginning of the downward slope, though you have a way to go yet.