Wednesday, 20 August 2014

Our GP Jane is like family.



I reckon in this day of techie nutsoness and social media and google your symptons and become your own doctor as you convince yourself that you have some shitful disease that no one has ever heard of but which will kill you horribly in about 2 and half minutes, it is pretty rare to stumble across a doctor who is happy to learn all about your quirks and strangeness and who seems to know her shit too.

I was lucky enough to filter through a bunch of GPs in Brisbane and finally found the amazing Maureen. She and I grew up together. Her kids presented the same quandaries as Bell and she was a trooper the first time my boobs went ape shit. I was sorry to have to trade her in for the impersonal 'You are just a number' medical arrangement which was my experience in the NHS in my years in London.

When I dragged the Pom home and we settled in the Goldie, for a long while I trooped back up to Brisvegas to see Maureen.

However this required a 2 hour drive and I had to fit into Maureen's pared back working hours. I sure as shit did not blame her for cutting back, after all I was not keeping myself too busy either. That should be what your 50s are for, kids are gone so do a bit of pleasing yourself.

For urgent little unimportant flu season sort of shit we would just go to any-old-one, until one day the sun broke through the gloom and we met Jane. Steve likes her cos she is no nonsense and I like her cos she knows her stuff and if she doesn't she looks it up. She looks after us separately and together.

She's a good bit younger than me so I am hoping that I might not have to break another one in for a good few years yet.

It's interesting to me that there is so little status for the humble GP, instead specialists earn the big bucks, and hopefully know their stuff but know you not at all, and all too often it feels the specialist's input is only marginally better than googling symptoms.

I like to think that a doctor might know what I look like and know a little something about how I might think and react, not just what my xrays look like or my blood scores.

Anyway, Jane is my, not so new Maureen. And Steve likes her too. BONUS. Jane happily rings through prescriptions to Kelly our Pharmacist, who is happy to dispense stuff if she reckons Jane will send through the paper work. Jane rings us at home to discuss test results or just to see how we are going if we've been poorly.

Well what do you know, I am happy with the rural country town nature of our health care. Perhaps I am more of a country girl than I thought. Yehhh......NOPE.