Yesterday I had to say bye bye to my GP because after 4 years <since we moved house> of prevaricating and obfuscating about our address my husband couldn't take the embarrassment of being asked to confirm it yet again. Personally I found that 'For goodness sakes, how many times are you going to ask me' served me well but my hub tended to clam up and go pink so we finally reached the end of his road.
My doc Brian, when I fessed up, asked hopefully if our old address was maybe now our holiday cottage, and then said that he'd guessed ages ago that we'd moved but certainly didn't feel the need to take us off his list. It seems mad, we see him twice a year for humdrum check-up things and in any event his out-of-hours service covers the whole of the region including both my old and new address. But there you go - that's the outcome of the dire influence of receptionist dragons who harrass poor husbands for their correct address.
It took me quite some time to break Brian in to my little ways and after our initial differences we'd become firm friends. Now I'm faced with locating another surgery and slowly working through the docs until I find one to suit me. I really do think GPs should have to publish their CVs so that patients can make an informed choice.
Anyway, Brian Johnson GP of Chirk, you're a star and I'll miss your little jokes and nervous chuckle :O))
2 comments:
that's a shame.
Still there must a another local witch doctor out there in the wilds?
Good luck in your search ,.,.,Jan xx
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