Hypertension

It will come as no surprise to any of you to learn that Fester is on medication for his blood pressure.  He has been for many years.  The NHS is now, wisely in my opinion, becoming wary of dishing out repeat prescriptions without, once in a while, checking up on their necessity, effectiveness etc.

Sadly for the pharmacist at his GP practice Fester doesn’t see it this way.

He was invited, or instructed, to attend an appointment at the practice last week to have his blood pressure measured.  His prescription was emailed to the chemist’s up the road and today he went and got his drugs.  He was also requested, or required, to speak to the practice pharmacist, who phoned yesterday afternoon.

Many years ago I did a Royal Society of Arts Audio Typing course (there’s a certificate somewhere) so I was able to contemporaneously type the gist of his end of the conversation onto my Facebook wall. There were some short pauses whilst the pharmacist spoke, but I can't remember exactly where.

"Of course I was stressed.  We're in the middle of a pandemic.  You go into a doctors’ surgery that resembles a prison.  You get a nurse that turns up who you've never seen before, who is incompetent, and a machine that doesn't work so she has to go and get another one, a cuff that doesn't fit.  I'm surprised it was as low as it was.  Everything is fine.  I'm having no problem.  It's you lot that's kicking off about it.  She eventually took three measurements and they were going down all the time.  Travelling to your Mickey Mouse practice is stressful.  Having to bash on the door to get in is stressful.                 The measurement was taken under very stressful conditions and is a farce.  What do you expect?  Do you expect me to be relaxed?  The only way I shall be relaxed is to sit down with my own doctor.  I'm 68.  I am not a medical doctor I am a scientific doctor.  I know what I'm talking about.  The measurement is incredibly inaccurate and variable.  I am absolutely fine.  I've got my prescription.  If anybody in your practice wants to see me then I shall come in, but only if I can sit down with my own doctor, Dr M."

Remarkably restrained by his standards; no expletives and he didn’t even raise his voice.

As he said "If anybody's going to be assertive it's going to be me."

Looking at Facebook a few hours later I reported “Mrs Leftfoot has commented ‘Gosh’ about your rant.”

"It wasn't a rant, I was entirely lucid."

“Who says a rant can't be lucid?  Besides which; which one of us has GCE O’level English Language and English Literature, A’level English Lit and S’level Use of English?  It wasn’t a tirade.  I know the difference between a tirade and a rant, and that was a rant.”

I have suggested numerous times that he move to my GP practice, which is within 5 minutes walking distance.  But, no, he insists on the ‘continuity’ of Dr M and staying with a practice that was originally the University Health Centre when he came up in nineteen seventysomething, and is now shifted into Boots in a shopping centre.

Fortunately I seem to have inherited my father’s low blood pressure.