delirium happy

Just keep on trying till you run out of cake

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road sign, I'm with stupid
rho
The other week, I got a phone call, from my GP's surgery, asking if I could come in because there was something my GP wanted to see me about. Sure, no problem, whatever. What appointments do you have available? 9.20 in the morning on Tuesday the 15th? Yeah, I suppose I can make that. So, today, I drag myself out of bed after $notEnough sleep, and saunter, zombie-like, up to the surgery. I might add that I look like complete ass, due to the combination of not enough sleep and having my face shot with lasers yesterday, which leaves nice red blotches and charred hairs all over my face. Naturally this leads to the "are you sure that's your name?" dance at reception, whereby only extreme apathy prevented today's evening news being plastered with "homicidal rage in Lancaster GP reception" headlines. Then, when I finally get into my appointment (15 minute's late, of course), my GP greets me with "so, what can I do for you today?"

Yeah.

I could add that he was apologetic when I pointed out that he'd asked me to come in so how was I suppose to know, but that would take away from the rant.

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I'm sorry but all I could do was giggle my way through your post because of the icon. Much love for the icon.

Ah, the UK Health Service. Where would we be without the 'tarded receptionists who want to know your innermost ailments and lifestory and the doctors with memories of your average fun-fair goldfish. At least he was apologetic. But yes. Twattery.

icon chosen because it's my only "tears" icon. not because i want you to go play with the Luxon Base Defender

Do we get to find out what he did want? I'm intrigued!

Oh, nothing interesting. Just a standard sort of "I've not seen you in ages and I want to make sure you're not dead if I'm going to keep signing the script to give you drugs" sort of thing.

As an asthmatic, given new NHS targets, I've been known to turn up to GP appointments and say "So, your computer wants to see me."

This is the same computer that regularly forgets my repeat prescriptions.

And the doctor tells me off for anthropomorphising it.

I know complaining about Lancs receptionists (and the GPs come to that, a few years ago, Ali and I discovered they hadn't heard of lesbianism...) is painfully pointless, but... have you complained about them?..!

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