Regular readers will know that I was complaining a few weeks back about my shoulder hurting. Given that my social circle includes a doctor this led to a series of tests.
Left arm/shoulder pain in a 50 year old boozer and smoker is sometimes sign of something more than just left shoulder pain.
So, of course, I could still keel over tomorrow. But the ECG says that bit’s fine, the blood tests say the liver, kidneys, that whatever that deals with insulin, they’re all fine. Blood pressure is a bit high but we’ll pill and diet and exercise to see what.
And then there’s the x-ray of the lungs. Which comes back and says that, actually, since we did your shoulder as well, we can tell you why your shoulder hurts.
Sporting injuries, those dislocations while playing rugby, have caught up with you. Nowt very much to do about it, certainly not until it all becomes a great deal worse.
What’s that? You swam 2 km this arvo and it’s twingeing? Well, yes, it will, for the rest of your life, get used to it.
I did, of course, shake the Doctor’s hand and thank him very much for telling me that I am, mildly, crippled. For I am English.
Well, that and the information that it is a joint problem, not a cancer or a heart beating its last.
Given that I know the Doctor socially he hunted through the three pubs I’m likely to use of an evening to give me the news.
God Bless the medical system* of the Czech Republic.
*For which I paid, full price, no complaints, bloomin’marvellous. GP reference to X-Ray was 3 days, given the Sat and Sun in between. X-Ray to completed diagnosis delivered to me another 3 days. That includes the hunting through the pubs to find me.
Perhaps charging for things is the way medical systems ought to work?