A visit to the doctor

Old John is such a difficult old bugger. That very morning he had been rummaging around in his shed when the sound of the phone drew him back into the house. It was his son ringing from overseas. He never ceased to marvel at modern day communications,in bits of a second his voice had flown around the world, from the sunshine to a wet and windy day in Blighty.

Hello son what's up. He hadn't thrown off the apprehension felt when he was younger that an overseas call signalled bad news. 

Hi Dad no nothings wrong just rang to hear how you are and if you had been to see the doctor yet. He remembered their last conversation when he had let slip that he hadn't been feeling well and was going for a check up. 

Doctors, don't get me started, they seem more interested these days, in the Practice as a business with all kinds of labour saving gimmicks to keep the patient at bay. 

I had no sooner stood facing the receptionist (a species of person specially bred to obstruct ordinary people) when she insisted I go outside again and submit myself to an electronic handshake (I ask you) to announce my arrival. "But I'm here on time for my appointment". 

"Sorry Sir but it's procedure". 

Out I went and tapped the screen, entering my gender, date of birth to be welcomed electronically. 

Back in front of M/s frosty face  I pulled an exasperated stare and announced "I'm here again"!! "Please take a seat at the automatic blood pressure machine and follow the instructions on the screen". Beginning to wonder if I hadn't landed myself on the set of Star Wars 5 I followed instructions. The thing grabbed my arm and began to squeeze.Was it working ok, it kept on squeezing. What if the bloody thing had malfunctioned today of all days and my arm flattened by forces unspecified by the Japanese manufacturer. The story in the local news.  "Mans arm squashed", stop," fire-service cut the machine off him as he whimpered that he had only come to have his ears syringed" !!!!