I sometimes wonder whether it is a good idea to go and visit a doctor. Every time that I attend the surgery I am prompted with attendance at a new test and new results that reveal something new and disturbing.
The last of my attendances at the GP was caused by a sore shoulder and some questions about the blood tests that have been conducted.
What an idiot I must be to raise questions.
The next thing I know I am off for x rays and an ultrasound and some more intensive blood tests.
What do they find?
Well in the first place a nice torn ligament in the shoulder. Requires more tests like an MRI and then perhaps surgery depending on the damage. Lovely! Another fortune in body analysis and repairs.
Then there is the blood test. No news is good news I always say and in this case I am right again. The test reports that I have low iron in my blood. OK so what does this mean? Take supplements? Well, not necessarily, it could mean I have bowel cancer.
WONDERFUL - as if oesophageal cancer was not enough I now have to find out if I am to enjoy something else as well.
So I go home to think ruefully about what is happening to my life and my body and the doctor goes off on a well earned weekend with the family suggesting that in the next week she will try and make arrangements for a gastroscopy to find out whether I am bleeding internally somewhere and whether that is cancer or not.
That of course leaves me with the anxiety and a feeling of total helplessness as I wait for their intervention.
Ain't the world grand?
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