I have entered medical heaven.

I don’t suppose I regaled you with the woe-some tail of my previous GP surgery? Put it this way, a two-hour strong wait was not uncommon whether you were ailing with a common cold or an agitating heart condition. It wouldn’t matter if you limped in holding your foot you would still be asked a series of questions by nosy receptionists with zero medical training as to why your foot got severed from your leg.

Once in to to see a GP, they would be stressed, harassed and short of time. Lacking in any compassion they would already be signing a prescription for a truck load of antibiotics which you wouldn’t need since you were holding your severed foot in your hand.

Needless to say I have nothing pleasant to report about my previous GP surgery. I fear it’s not just me that has sad tales to tell of GP surgery’s like my old one. It’s a sad story to think of all the men and women once proud to hold their medical degrees, off to save the world one ailment at a time, that have now become slaves to a machine run by paper pushers and time keepers. (My personal view)

Skip back to last month.

I have driven past, my now doctors surgery, plenty of times. It reminded me of Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory; dark and foreboding on the outside yet filled with imaginable treats on the inside. It was only due to the pain of my previous surgery that pushed me to pass through the unsuspecting gates.

I registered my family and I and booked my first appointment. I learnt it was easier to get into drama school (which was really hard) than it was to reserve a doctors appointment at the previous surgery despite dropping words like – kidney transplant – consultant – serious – daily medication – life threatening… I may have added the last one for dramatic effect as nothing else was working.

I got an appointment at Mr.Wonka’s for the following morning. I nearly cried at the news. I was so stunned my face must have been a picture as the receptionist looked quite concerned, glanced over at the defibrillator kit and back to me. I thanked her, walked out and rang my husband to tell of the joyous news. I even insisted he get ill, which he never does, just so he could get a kick out of getting a same day or next day appointment.

The next morning as I walked into ‘The Willy Wonka doctors surgery’ nerves overtook me as I wondered, could this really be true? Had I suffered a kind of post traumatic episode that caused me to make up the events of the previous day?

I was not suffering, nor dreaming. I was welcomed in by a kindly, unassuming receptionist who knew who I was before I told her. My bottom barely grazed the faux leather covered sponge seat before I was called in for my appointment.

I carefully knocked on the only door available to me and poked my head around. An older gentlemen with a kind face sat behind a large desk he greeted me with such gusto I burst into the room in case he changed his mind. I told him my problems and he listened without judgement. He presented his diagnosis and gave me the option over whether I take antibiotics or another route, helping me understand that antibiotics aren’t the cure for everything.

I’ve since been back to explore the ‘other route’ and I met the only other doctor at the surgery, she works Tuesday’s and Thursday’s and she was really nice. I honestly had to stop myself saying ‘Wow’ when I walked in, she is stunning! I have since told my husband it’s not possible to get an appointment on a Tuesday or Thursday but thoroughly encouraged my single brother in law to attend on those days.

Did I mention they also have a nurse led ‘Chronic condition’ surgery? It’s designed for people such as myself to enter and get a full health check with a specialist nurse who is fully read on our conditions. I mean if that’s not a sign from the Lord that this surgery was meant for me, I don’t know what is!

The cherry that topped off this delightfully light and fluffy cake that contains all chocolate and no calories (because isn’t that the dream cake?) Was a child’s play house! It was all singing, all dancing and rammed full of toys for all ages. My children are often carted around with me when I go for my various consultations and blood appointments etc so to have toys they can play with is beyond Willy Wonka it’s absolute medical heaven!

One thought on “Medicinal

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