What’s Up Doc?

And so to the doctor’s where we enrolled the other day.  The first surgery we went to asked us for photo ID and a utility bill to prove our address.  WHAT?  I’ve never heard of such a thing.  Fortunately we ran into Ian straight afterwards, and he put us onto a much nearer surgery just at the top of our road.  Off we trotted; they handed us some forms, asked us to fill them in – and Bob was most definitely our Uncle.

And so off I hoofed today for a persistent problem to be resolved.  I walked up to the desk and smiled.  “I have an appointment’ I said.

‘Have you arrived yourself?’ she asked.

i looked at her blankly.  What was she asking me?  Whether I had arrived under my own steam or been wafted against my will?  Or whether it was in fact I who had arrived and not someone else?  No.  She was asking me whether I had signed in via the computer terminal at the entrance.  I had not.  I duly did, and went back to the desk again.

‘Had you been arrived?’ she asked.

That kept me laughing all through my 20-minute wait to see the doc.  Then later Holly and I went to the optician’s where they were very nice and took their time sorting out some frames for her.

The house is getting sorted, and so are we.

Kirk out


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