I've had my first brush with the medical profession in France this week. I haven't been feeling quite myself of late, but being an ex-paramedic I am allergic to sorting myself out and possibly rather stupidly am of the "stick my head in the sand" school of life. I'm not sure exactly what is wrong, possibly nothing,but just feel more tired and cold and a variety of symptoms that point at nothing really.
I actually went to the doctors the day before yesterday (so that when Neil came home he wouldn't tell me off for not doing anything) and sat in the waiting room for two hours waiting my turn. It suddenly occured to me, as I was the last in the room that everything had gone very quiet. Give it 10 more minutes I thought, he may be writing up notes. Still quiet. I investigated. Every bugger had gone. Luckily the front door was still open so I was able to let myself out. Cheers for that.
I phoned the surgery the next morning and told them what had happened. No apology. "So do you want to come today then?" was the only hint that she had understood what I had said.
I went last night and had the most thorough examination I have ever had. The gp was worth waiting for and before I knew it was booked in for mammograms and blood tests and was given a diet sheet (joy)! Apparently in France women start mammograms at 40.
I went for the blood test this morning at 7am. I threw the croix rouge into mass panic because I didn't have an appointment, and then I had a panic because I didn't have a mutuel (top up) health insurance and I thought it may be an expensive morning. I was relieved to hear "One euro eighty nine centimes please". I think I can manage that!