Doctor!!!

Dr.S. is on a much-deserved holiday. So I had to see a locum - a short (yes, shorter than me), dark, plump (yes, plumper than me) woman - who interrogated me about my medication for about ten minutes. I felt an almost overwhelming urge to say, 'Look, just sign the damned prescription, you stupid bitch!' Of course, outwardly, I remained impeccably polite. But my inner voice disturbed me. I sounded lie some mad junkie. I told her about my possible broken rib - more damage inflicted by our Friendly Neighbourhood Psychopath®. She gave me a cursory examination. 'There's nothing we can do about broken ribs anyway.'

'I know that,' I said through gritted teeth. 'I do have a loose grasp on current medical practice. If you look at my notes you'll see why having it confirmed is so important.'

Why are doctors so damned awkward? Do they do it deliberately to demonstrate how much power they have?

I felt relieved as I walked out of the surgery with my prescription clutched in my hand have avoided (with some effort) punching the supercilious bitch in the face.

And I do so despise violence.

This was followed by disconcerting over familiarity at the Chemist's (Good old Boots). The pharmacist said: 'You look well.'

I felt like telling her to pay an immediate visit to her optician.