My job is not bad. Not by a long shot. I am not complaining about my job (although it does have it's moments) I really don't have much to whine about.
Today, I met somebody who has a right to complain.
Lunchtime saw me going to the doctor. A patch of cellulitis, which they treated with antibiotics last week, has diminished, but has not gone away. So, it was back to the doctors to see what else can be done for this slightly uncomfortable patch of inflamed skin on my leg. As I explained, I really didn't want to take an existing condition to Darwin to have it fester. As I said to the doctor, the last thing I need is for my leg to turn back and have it drop off.
I left the doctor's office with a prescription for some stronger antibiotics and an order to have and ultrasound and Xray on my leg to make sure nothing nefarious is going on. This is definitely a due diligence action. From a Millennial doctor who's also a bloke, it felt good to be cared for and listened to.
The imaging place is around the corner and up the road from the surgery.
On going in, I was told I could have the Xray today, but the ultrasound would have to wait until the weekend. It would be a 15-minute wait.
I don't think I've had an Xray in 30 years. The last time that I can remember it was in 1993. I was in Dublin, with a terrible chest infection. I was staying in a youth hostel. I knew I needed antibiotics. The doctor was concerned enough that they thought I might have pneumonia, and demanded I have a chest Xray. All I can remember was being sprawled up against the film like a bug on a wall and it took about ten minutes for me to stop coughing.
This time, it was just the lower leg that needed its picture taken.
I was asked to take off my jeans.
No worries there.
I'd showered in the hours before. No drama there. My underwear was clean.
The Xray technician put me in the positions they required.
"I'm glad I'm recently showered. It's my dread fear going to a doctor when you're not fresh."
"You're good," they told me, "I can't smell your feet. You can come back any time."
As I said, I think my job is bad at time. At least I don't have to deal with the great unwashed...
Cheesy feet. Eww.
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