Patience, patients and OMG IT'S SO HOT

So we’re finally getting our looooong overdue summer. There was a brief spell earlier in the year, perhaps even unseasonable but, since then, it’s been pretty wet and windy. Now, in the last couple of days, the heat has returned with a vengeance. I was always more of an autumn/winter person until moving to the north of England. Thanks to the undulating nature of this vast city’s topography, extreme wintery conditions tend to shut the place down. Buses stop running and everything. Life is just harder. Down south, the extreme effects of winter never used to bother me. In fact, I don’t think I ever thought about them that much at all. I just liked the cold and got on with the odd patch of black ice. I loved the muted beauty of nature around that time of year, and being able to snuggle up for warmth. Now, up north, winter means anxiety about topping up my energy meters, will-or-won’t-I be able to get food in, and the council estate I live in looking even more desolate than usual. So, to bring us back to my point, while I do prefer the winter temperatures, I’m respecting the summer more, mainly due to how easy it all is. And cheaper. Much, much cheaper.

Yesterday was my long-awaited doctor’s appointment. As mentioned previously, pre-bookable appointments with my regular GP had a waiting time of over a month, and while I’m sure I could have seen another doctor in my surgery sooner, I really wanted to see my regular guy. He’s very gentle and easy to talk to. I just couldn’t imagine seeing someone else with such matters.

I found myself getting anxious in the waiting room beforehand, but not due to my ailments. Just environmental things. There was a mother with a toddler sat behind me, and the toddler would just randomly scream at the top of their voice. Some consistency would have been nice, but it was like they were doing it randomly just to unnerve me. There weren’t, of course, but that’s what it felt like. Also, the PA system seemed to be having problems, so I kept worrying that I’d missed my appointment due to damned technology. I had visions of them making me wait another month for an appointment. I think, in the end, the reception staff let the doctors and nurses know there was a problem, so they started coming out in person to call for patients.

Considering how upset and frightened I’ve been getting about whatever’s up with my body, my doctor was able to put me at ease. In my own headspace, I thought he’d be hitting a big emergency button on his desk and shuttling me off to the hospital against my will. But, of course, that didn’t happen. We had a nice, calm conversation and he made a quick examination. I’m going back on Wednesday to see the nurse so they can run blood tests for anything serious, while the doctor gave me antibiotics on the spot for my skin condition. I think he was quite surprised at how fast and casual I took my clothes off for him when he examined me. It’s not my first time. I’d whip them off on the bus if there was enough interest.

But, anyway, at least there’s a possible end to the condition that’s been rendering me in tears of agony over the past six months or so. It’s also been keeping me indoors more than I’d like and making me feel unclean and morbid. I think we could all do without that.

My doctor did seem a bit, I don’t know, concerned or sad that my decision to see him was almost a last resort. I did say that I’d been to the sexual health clinic at the hospital first and that, in my most extreme moments of pain, considered going to A&E, so that probably didn’t help. The surgery does seem to be shaking up their service of late, so maybe I’m not the only one to stay away. Even the receptionist seemed pleasant and chatty. I was very confused. Maybe they’ve replaced the old, stuck-in-their-ways administration that was putting patients off visiting. It wouldn’t surprise me at all. Never have a job for life, folks, it just twists you into something ugly.

While picking up my antibiotics at the chemist afterwards, I noticed they had a products section labelled “Little Ones”. It was obviously stuff for babies and toddlers, but the phrase “little ones” bothered me. I feel you should always be plain-speaking when it comes to healthcare. No slang. Plus, people with whom English is not their first language may very well be confused by such a local phrase. Just say what it is. Don’t try to be “down with the people”. It’s like when a newsagents decide to actually call themselves “The Paper Shop”. No, call yourselves J. A. Roberts & Son’s Newspaper & Tobacconists. Not “The Dumbass Paper Shop”. Sigh. People, huh?

Oh, I finally watched the 1950 Bette Davis-starring All About Eve last night. This is one of those “films I really should have seen by now” affairs. I dunno, I’ve just never gotten around to it. I really had no expectations about it whatsoever. I didn’t even know what it was about, but I was drawn in immediately by the wonderfully biting opening narration by George Sanders. He’s an actor who I would have loved to have seen having an Awesome Posh British Guy face-off with Trevor Howard. I do believe his real life last words will be my own. The bitterness of them will forever warm my heart.

But anyway, yes, All About Eve was very entertaining, and I was surprised how evil the titular Eve got. The film is listed as a drama, but you could almost file it under “psychological thriller” too. The only thing that prevents that, I suppose, is that Eve never actually commits a crime, which is what usually makes a thriller. She’s just kind of a dick to people. The final moments of the film made for a gleefully satisfying comeuppance. Plus, let us not forget Bette Davis’ famed performance as an aging diva. Oh how I so related to her character. You will be hearing me quote her in future, I’m sure.

It was also one of those experiences that helped confirm my transgenderism. It was a very subtle thing, but I just couldn’t relate to the male characters in any way shape or form. I know I’m fluid, and generally fine with my male body (well, parts of it, at least), but the boorish stuffed-shirts that comprise the male contingent of the cast just seemed like aliens to me. I was all like “Who the hell would want to be like that?!”. Some would, I suppose. Perhaps my gender beachball was floating in the feminine area of the lagoon last night. Who’s to say.

My choice for dining while I watched the film was a Chinese takeaway. I did mention in my last post that I’m wanted to get out to restaurants more, which remains true, however my confidence is quite low at the moment, so I just need a little push to get out the door. I’m hoping last night’s ordering out will be one of the last. Until winter shuts me in, at least.

Anyway, I’ve kept you all for long enough. Don’t forget to pick up a gift bag on the way out, and do look after yourselves.

Toodles!