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.