Doctor, doctor...DOCTOR!

30-plus-somethings from my side of the Irish Sea will no doubt remember the series of 1980s TV ads aimed at dissuading hypochondriacs from bothering busy GPs with unnecessary prescription requests.

Here's a link to one in case you're a UTV nostalgic or simply a curious non-Northern Irelander: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H898Vr7Koss

As the son of a nurse, I was rightly brought up to respect the medical profession and their time and have normally had to have something hanging off before I go for a visit. But I've been around long enough to spot a fairly useless doctor when I see one.

Two in particular spring to mind. The first was in Belfast in 1995 after I ruptured a quadricep playing rugby, leaving me with a gaping hole on the front of my left thigh.

After showing him the problem, he literally phoned a friend - right in front of me - before saying there was nothing he could do.

"But I want to get it fixed!" I pleaded. "Can't the muscle be sewn back together?"

"Yes it can," he replied, before adding coldly, "but you're hardly Linford Christie."

I never played rugby again.

And then there was the young lady I saw today. I've had her before (metaphorically, you understand) several times and let's just say she's consistent.

I last popped in (now, now) about three months ago when my physio told me I needed a knee operation and instructed me to visit my GP and ask to go on the waiting list. After explaining why I was there, my whizz of a doctor said an operation "might not work" so I might as well not bother. And that was that.

Today, I went seeking help with a chronic sinusitis condition which has plagued me for years and, most recently, left me unable to sleep for the last couple of nights (once the food poisoning had passed - it's been a ball). I've been with her three times (still metaphorically) in the last 18 months with this ailment and each time she hasn't bothered to examine me - just asked me what it was, allowed me to suggest anti-biotics and then handed me my prescription.

Anyway, this morning I said I was keen to try to get the problem fixed permanently and asked if there were options available. Choosing a slight variation on the Belfast doctor's approach, she didn't phone a friend but instead got a medical textbook out and began to read it.

After a couple of minutes' silence, she commented: "Yes, there are things that can be done but they might not work so it's hardly worth it." And that was that.

All hail the caring profession? Hmmm....most of the time, but not always (unless you've got the dosh to go private).