GP visit

After the explosion of the abscess and ‘stench of death’, I duly returned to visit my doctor on Wednesday 17 August.

As I entered the consulting room, he introduced a young lady who is a registrar from Kingston hospital, who was learning about the range of health issues patients come along to a GP surgery with.

This time, he was sufficiently concerned and interested to actually examine me. I gingerly hopped up onto the couch, facing the wall, lowered my trousers and boxer shorts and heard the doctor don the plastic gloves.

He asked me to raise my legs up towards my tummy and gently examined me and concluded: ‘Yes – you have two visible hemorrhoids and I can see the infection that is still draining’.

I quickly got dressed again and noted the female registrar had declined the opportunity to gaze intently at my fat, hairy backside. Maybe she’d recently consumed her breakfast.

‘Right – so I will give you some antibiotics that will clear this infection up and I’ll also send you to see Mr. Fawcett who is an anorectal specialist at Kingston hospital’.

As I watched him type the referral letter, I joked about whether anyone dreamt of a career as an ‘anorectal specialist’ as a young person.

I returned home, shelled out £7.50 for the weeks course of antibiotics and was quite relieved I had got the referral so someone could sort this problem out once and for all.

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