Heal thyself

I get the impression that everyone is ill at the moment. If it’s not Covid, it’s the flu. If it’s not the flu, it’s Man Flu. If it’s not Man Flu, it’s a slight cold, which is pretty well where I came in. I’ve got Man Flu, a near death experience, as it is for all men who can’t help making a crisis out of what definitely isn’t a drama. This time, I can’t even go through the rigmarole of exaggerating what is essentially a cold and not even a bad one. None of this requires the attention of a GP, although I do have a condition which does require medical attention. I made do with the new-fangled Ask My GP facility.

Already knowing what’s wrong with me, I explained my symptoms, adding that I didn’t need a GP appointment. A simple prescription would suffice. Three days later and my health centre finally responded. The essence of the response was this: “All our doctors are busy, on holiday or ill, so the receptionist has taken a gander at a medical dictionary and agrees with your diagnosis. Your prescription has been sent to the pharmacy next door but do call them first to see whether they’ve actually got it. If you’re still alive next week and still suffering, ask a GP.” It wasn’t really the receptionist. I’ve made that up for dramatic effect: it was signed by a nurse practitioner. But I might as well have signed it myself.

This is not an attack on our local health centre. As far as I can tell, this is the way of the world at the moment. Not only can you not see a GP, you can’t even contact one via cyberspace. I’m due a blood test next week and am starting to wonder whether I might as well carry it out myself.

This being winter, viruses and the like are prevalent everywhere. It’s like they’ve been hanging around until the weather gets suitably grim, the nights close in and my mood starts to go through the floor. “Have that!” And even the most minor irritant becomes fully blown Man Flu. Woe is me, I’m so tired. Achoo! Sniff, sniff. Splutter. It lasts forever, too, or at least well into the following week. By now, I have successfully convinced myself, though sadly not others, that this is worst cold anyone has had, ever. This, at least, does not require a GP investigation. It is not called The Common Cold for nothing.