portlypete's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Not Dead Yet I hate waiting rooms in hospitals and surgeries. There always so full of ... well ... ill people. I tend to worry that I'll leave with rather more bugs than I came in with. So I was glad that I was called for my appointment only five minutes late - it's still a long time to hold your breath though.The doc was pleasant: went through all the questions, and then asked, "what do you thing it is then?". Hello? Me patient, you Doctor. I must have looked surprised. "I find the patient usually has a good idea of what's wrong with them". This must be the power of The Internet, which I have to admit I had plumbed the depths of to find out what was ailing me. Unfortunately, everything that came up seemed to be either terminal, or required extensive surgery, or was a mystery. Now I'm semi-naked on the couch being pummled and poked and pulled around. I haven't been treated this roughly since that night ... OK, let's not go there. "So where exactly is the pain?" "Er, pretty much everywhere NOW thank you very much!" The diagnosis. Nothing terminal, probably nothing requiring being sliced open like a halloween pumpkin, so that just leaves the mystery one. The investigation continues - thanks for asking. 5:01 p.m. - 19 November, 2009 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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