Friday, May 14


Imagine trying to explain through sign language that your kidneys hurt, that its uncomfortable to urinate and that the colour is wrong. Failing that, call in your flatmate to help you translate, but take into account that he has no medical or body parts vocabulary and that his girlfriend is required to help gesticulate and explain the explanations. Now realise that you are talking to very junior practitioner and that he needs to call for support. By this time your private examination room is getting fairly crowded, so the addition of a greybeard who is grumpy from being disturbed mid fag with the security guard might hinder your improvisations. Finally allow yourself to be karate chopped in the kidneys and poked with a stick, your kidney infection declared and your antibiotics prescribed to your flatmate (requires less paperwork)... and you might get an idea of why writing this account of my trip to the doctors doesn't rank very high on my embarrassment scale.

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