Doctor, Noooooo.

In case you didn't know, I'm suffering at the moment, I mean REALLY suffering. It's serious, I've had to take time off work and everything, which I never do.

I'm finally on antibiotics, but the symptoms have been ghastly, and what I had to go through to get the pharmaceuticals was, well, unusual. I went to the local doctors surgery only to find it's closed on a Thursday afternoon, so people don't get sick then then, apparently. So I went to the chemists and they recommended a local private doctor, I rang him and he told me 'no appointment was necessary' the alarm bells should have been ringing.

So I arrive at the 'doctors', denoted by a sign hanging on the door of a property that otherwise looks like a normal terraced house. I sit and wait in a 1970's style lounge which is lit by a single bulb in the corner of the room. I'm alone. Shortly the doctor comes out an asks me into his 'surgery', which in reality is the kitchen of this house, honestly.

I feel like I'm on set of some dodgy soap (that would be more preferable) there's a few medical props dotted around, but mostly it's a kitchen. He conducts a few doctory type tests, listens to my chest etc. then without warning pokes his fingers hard into my eyes 'does that hurt?', 'you just poked me in the eye of course it did', 'good', he then proceeded to write me out the prescription, well if that's what it takes to get drugs these days, I suppose it's better than a poke in the eye, oh no wait.