She's a doctor and she's ****

I'll tell you more about our little jaunt across the Irish Sea in subsequent posts, but first I must get something off my chest.

It's my useless doctor again. Yes, it's Dr Shit.

Never once in a significant number of visits to Dr Shit's Surgery, both on my own or with Jamie, has Dr Shit ever told me anything I didn't already know (Vanessa has had similar experiences).

She really is the original self-service GP; you go in, tell her what's wrong, prescribe yourself a drug and she signs the form. Indeed, the only constant surprise is the fact she can write her own name.

The reason for my current frustration is that my sinusitis is back. It kicked in last night and, this morning, I phoned to try to get a GP appointment to get it sorted. Sadly, only Dr Shit was available - Dr Shit is always available - and 20 minutes later I was in there; just me, her and her vacant look.

Here's how the conversation went.

Barry: "Good morning doctor. It's my sinusitis again. I'll need more antibiotics. But last time you said you would refer me and then nothing happened. I come here twice a year with this, you give me antibiotics and send me away. Then, six months later, I have to come back. Is there anything else you can do or can you send me to someone who can?"

Dr Shit: "Let me look at your notes. Yes, you were here twice last year but only once this year."

Barry: "Right. And?"

Dr Shit: "The antibiotics work, don't they?"

Barry: "Yes, but that's not really the point. Why wasn't I referred last time after you said I would be?"

Dr Shit: "I didn't think it would make much difference."

Barry: "Right. So you think I should keep coming to see you every six months to pump myself with antibiotics? That's hardly a solution, is it? Is it possible to have my sinuses washed out or something?"

Dr Shit: "Yes."

Barry: "So can you book me in then?"

Dr Shit: "No, I don't think it will make much difference. Why don't I give you some more antibiotics."

Barry: "Good thinking doctor."

Dr Shit: [Signs prescription]

Barry: "Thanks. See you in six months then."

Dr Shit: "Yes, bye."

Methinks it's time to do something radical. It's time to demand an appointment with Dr Not-Shit. He's a real doctor.