Prior to the new week (and a strenuous travelling one at that) I consult my GP (well, GP's nurse actually) about some mild chest pains I've been having and she runs a routine test or two and sends me off to Alnwick, confidently assuring me I'm not suffering from anything terminal. I always get a bit of the esprit d'escalier about doctors, and very soon after I think of dozens of symptoms which I should have mentioned, but of course now it's way too late and we're halfway to Northumberland. Anyway, we do a very good show and stay with a thoroughly lovely New Zealander called Paul, who cooks a mean breakfast and has a pop at Amy for skipping hers (leads to diabetes, apparently). So it's business as usual.
Then we have from 10am to 1.30pm to kill, and I book a further GP appointment for next Tuesday - six day's time - just to get a chance to mention my symptoms. I'm not a hypochondriac, but we have a history of ignoring stuff in my family which has had reasonably grim results, so I'm careful. That done, I put it to the back of my mind.
No comments:
Post a Comment