Thursday, 28 December 2017
It's no secret that I see loads of doctors, some of 'em I like enormously and some I just rub along with cos they deliver news that is needed and their bed side manner is of little consequence, but my favourite by far is my GP Dr Jane, and sadly we have left her behind at the Goldie and I just can't see her making a house call even though she is perhaps one of the kindest smartest people you could ever hope to meet. But I had reconciled that I would continue to pop down to see her for scheduled shit and as I am almost never 'normal' sick, I reckoned I could go a long time without finding a GP up in the big smoke.
But today I woke with a bloody great blister on my arm, which only became apparent to me when I scratched the shit out of it and ooze happened. Yeh that was a bit shitty.
You see, after 10 years I had become used to the sand flies and bugs at the Big House and so we lived without screens and would just give a bit of an Aerogard spritzer before we took dog out in the twilight cos that's when the buggers were looking for blood.
But I haven't yet managed to get a working relationship with the Brisvegas buggers and they have bitten me from arsehole to breakfast, and being of little self control, I have been itching up a storm. There is something very satisfying about scratching an itch isn't there? Surely it can't just be me? So I scratch til I am raw - ah - and then it really fucking hurts. Bugger.
I had a bite on my foot that I have managed to scratch at during my sleep that has produced a big ugly sore which needs a bandaid if I choose to wear any shoes or thongs at all, so it's taking a long time to sort out, and now I have this walloper my arm. Bugger indeed.
So I reckon I need to find a doctor who will prescribe something stronger that Sting Goes or those other useless tubes of shit that the chemist sells just as sort of stocking stuffers.
So I had a look see at doctors around here, and the first one was staffed by 3 geriatric men. Now this couldn't be further from what I was looking for. Sure these fellas might be bloody marvellous, but what I wanted was a woman - younger than me, so if I do get to like her, she probably won't be dead while I am still kicking around, and that's important cos I don't want to spend precious time breaking in an another one if I can help it.
Then I happened on to a centre with a female doctor called, wait for it - JANE. I am hoping this is a good sign. And I am hoping she will send me off with more than advice and a smile. Yeh I will have to go into all the CML shit and she more than likely will never have heard of it and I will have to outline all the side effects of the meds which may or may not limit what she would like to do, but all this should be a good interview for the job. If she can get through this shit without me getting up and doing a runner then she might be a keeper.