57 minutes ago
Thursday, 28 July 2011
(WARNING: Grisly pic.!) Such a carry on - and I only want a toenail clipped!
I only heard recently that my younger brother had the same problem but after 3 months oral remedy prescribed by his doctor, the fungus cleared completely.
So it was that yesterday I had my periodic routine visit to my own doctor and mentioned this matter, thinking that it was just as well to make sure that any prescription does not clash with any of the medications (5 tablets!) I'm taking to control my high blood pressure. I told him of my brother's situation, who is, incidentally, also on medication for high B.P. though, strangely, with different tablets. The doctor's reaction was not what I was expecting. He said that he couldn't prescribe any remedies unless I was diabetic (plus one other condition which I didn't catch.) I repeated my brother's case but he said his hands were tied - I suppose he meant financially. The only option, he said, was that unless I wanted to go to a private chiropodist (which I can't afford) was for him to refer me to a podiatry clinic within the National Health Service (that wicked, Marxist system which guarantees that every British citizen is entitled to free medical care whatever his/her financial circumstances) and get my nail clipped for free. So I went - and was 'greeted' by one of those cold receptionists whom we've all known, who seem to treat all enquirers as a nuisance. (They're not all like that!) After interrupting her work, she deigned to look up at me, the imposter, but not for long. Handing me a long questionnaire enquiring about my body statistics, medical history, smoking habits or not, next of kin etc etc, I took it home and filled it out and went straight back to get the darned thing over and done with. After, to her intense irritation, I interrupted her work yet again, I presented her with the completed questionnaire. She perused it and then, with weary sense of resignation in her voice, she said to me, standing there ready with diary poised, "We'll let you know in a few weeks." Weeks? I only want the darned thing cut - twenty seconds' work at most! I was stunned speechless. Then, muttering "Oh, okay." I left, feeling I'd committed a serious indiscretion. "A few weeks" will mean I've got to file the toenail down again, perhaps twice. And what happens after it's done and it grows again? Do I have to repeat all this palaver just to get my toe-nail clipped? How absurd! So, can but wait and see how things transpire..