Last Friday, the 20th January, I had to go see Dr. Sandroussi, aka U.K.W.; the original appointment was for Thursday, the 19th. Doctor S. was unable to attend his rooms on the 19th, all his Thursday appointments had to be rescheduled; and I was lucky enough to be squeezed in on Friday morning, at 09.30.
I imagine he was called upon to save/prolong other lives.
My son, Nathan Sebastian, came by to drive me the 2 km. to the doc’s rooms, as my wife was on baby sitting duties, with our grandchildren.
I could just as easily have taken a bus. My wife normally drives me, and I take the bus home, there is never anywhere within cooee to park, and it’s just as easy for me to hop on a bus. Takes five minutes if that!
This time was different; Nathan Sebastian drove me, we decided to take my vehicle for no other reason than we didn’t have to walk far to get it, it was parked right at home, his was way down the street. And what a stroke of luck.
When we arrived outside Doctor Sandroussi’s rooms, lo & behold, there’s a “Disability” parking spot. FREE!
Never seen it before; (and doubt I’ll ever see it again).
“I’ll leave the car, and walk back to the house” said Nathan Sebastian, after a few minutes/seconds of me putting up a feeble argument, I agreed.
I know he likes walking, he actually goes, what he refers to as ‘power’ walking, from his flat in Glebe/Forest Lodge, which is just a couple of k’s away from us, into town, over the Bridge to North Sydney, and home again, probably takes a couple of hours, I dread to ask.
According to Google Earth, the shortest way is just over 8½ km, so a round trip 17 k’s; that I believe, is a bit over 10 miles, for those unfamiliar with metric. I wouldn’t/couldn’t have done it in my prime, if I ever was in a prime 😈
On entering the Doc’s rooms I was greeted with a great smile from the ever ebullient Isobel. “Hello Brian” says she, “you look terrific!”, I returned her greeting, and told her I was feeling well.
She then asked if I’ve grown my hair long, I told her no, a gentleman never wears his hair short.
A brief glance around the room revealed several people, and I asked “Is God running a trifle late?” to which Isobel replied, “Just a little”. This was understandable.
Failing to bring a book; which I normally do, I took a seat, that had a commanding view, of the room, and all those stuck therein. 👿
And what a motley mob they were!
The first to catch my eye was a young bloke late 50’s I’d think, obviously taken some time off from his job to attend. Looked like he was a council road worker. Dark blue singlet, shorts & boots. Had a mop of snow white hair, complimented by a snow white walrus beard, come moustache.
Wasn’t what I’d call a proper beard.; nothing on the chin or cheeks. He actually looked a picture of health, if you disregarded the tattoo’s, that were faded, and indistinguishable, on his withered skin. Doctor S. doesn’t just have cancer patients!
He had a mobile/cell phone, that was just that, the old flip up type; and I suspect that when it kept ringing, it was from his foreman/boss, asking when the hell was he getting back to work. He looked somewhat agitated. He really didn’t have to wait very long.
I, as is my usually habit, arrived early for my appointment; just on 09.00 hours, so I knew I was in for a bit of a wait, which didn’t worry me, had all day up my sleeve if needed.
On surveying the room, it occurred to me that it wouldn’t be that bad, as except for the walrus and me, the rest were paired off.
With the exception of Doctor Adams, who sported a full beard, I have never visited a doctor, that wasn’t clean shaven; (lady doctors excluded) neat and presentable. Therefore, I return the respect shown to me, by appearing before them likewise!
That being said, seemingly not everybody would agree with me.
Just around from the walrus were two ladies, they looked like sisters both in their 50’s might have been twins. The words scruffy & dowdy spring to mind. Upon their feet were thongs, that’s Australian thongs, the things people wear on the feet, referred to in some countries as flip-flops for some reason or other.
These things may be okay on a beach; but in the city? At a doctors rooms/surgery? And to add insult to injury, one of these ladies had the temerity to give me a smile! I did not return said smile, impolite though it may be!
Naturally, both these women had the iniquitous mobile/cell phone, clasped in their hands, taping out messages at great speed, on matters of some great moment, no doubt. The world would come to a complete stop, if heaven forbid, people turned the damned things off for five minutes.
Two seats away from Misses Dowdy & Scruffy, was a wife & husband duo; It was quite obvious that they were married, they didn’t converse. They did however, tap away on their m/c’s.probably something really important, like asking someone to check, see if the postman has been. These matter just can not wait! 🙄
Seated to my left was another married couple; she was cell phone free, but he however, had much to do. There were a great deal of photographs on HIS phone and it was imperative for his wife to see, she nodded, perhaps to humour him; for she said little, preferring to sit in peaceful thought, or mayhap’s just bored with waiting. I didn’t enquire!
There was one other, very strange lady. I couldn’t see much of her, as she seemed buried in a book, oblivious to the world. 😛
By the bye, Dr Sandroussi was not the only specialist attending that morning, there was a lady specialist looking after her own patients.
Mr Walrus was seen, and soon after departed in a great hurry, and more arrived to take his place. The first being a rather tall young woman, perhaps late twenties, early thirties. And I thought exceedingly rude.
She entered the rooms with her mobile glued to her ear, yakking away. Isobel smiled and greeted her in her normal manner, and managed to ascertain that this new lady was a first time visitor, obviously; for she gave Miss Rude a clip board with a form to fill out.
Plonking herself down in the nearest free seat, she proceeded to enter her details, still yakking, and I wondered at her dexterity, and I also wondered how on earth she could write. I’ve noticed how the young hold pens/pencils these days, and it’s no wonder what they write is totally illegible.; but this Miss Rude takes the cake.
I must admit I was quite fascinated; the right thumb seemed to be stuck up into space; the index, and middle fingers, were wrapped around the barrel, and the pointy bit, was somehow resting, on the tip of her little finger. I suppose Isobel could understand it as she accepted it; then again Isobel doesn’t hold her pen correctly either.
It makes me wonder, if this is the fault of being brought up using ball point pens. I remember clearly when being taught to write, dipping my pen into the inkwell/pot, taking pen to paper, and trying my damnedest not to get the ink all over my fingers and failing miserably.
Holding my paper down with the palm of the left hand, sitting up straight and writing slowly and clearly. These non-drip ball-point pens makes it too easy.
Saved getting a wallop; doing it properly!
The last group, but one, (I was going to use penultimate, but thought you’d probably think I’m bunging on side) to arrive before I went in was a family; and what a delight they were, man, wife two children, a pigeon pair, the girl about 7 or 8 the boy 4 or 5, I think, perhaps, they were from New Guinea, children were very dark, with great big smiles, full of shining white teeth.
Plainly, it was the mother who was there to see the doctor, the husband was a nervous wreck. Getting up and down, walking in and out of the building; he just couldn’t sit still, I felt for him. The two children were perfectly behaved, and you could tell they were polite and well mannered.
And not a phone, or electronic toy, to be seen!
I couldn’t help smiling at them, they erased all memory of the Misses Scruffy & Dowdy. who didn’t get a smile!
Then a very young couple, madly in love arrived, both ‘texting’ madly, one handed he, two handed she; they took the seats diagonally opposite me, and she snuggled up head on his shoulder, eyes firmly fixed on her phone still texting away, he doing likewise. I wonder if they were conversing with each other. I never saw their lips move!
Very nicely dressed, she wearing what looked like one of his shirts, rescued from the laundry basket, there may well have been some short shorts beneath; he in battered jeans and top. Very elegant.
My turn to see God came about 10.30 hours, I’d been there more than an hour and a half, time had flown; always does when you’re having fun, so I’ve been told.
He took one look at me, and I was shattered. “You look terrific” says he. I had an idea what was coming. “Hop up here” says he, indicating the couch/bed type of thing, shirt off, no singlet; middle of summer, very lightly dressed am I, he inspected my abdomen, nearly said stomach, then I remembered, admired his handiwork.
“The scar’s nearly gone” looking all pleased with himself. I asked “Who sewed me up?” “I did” says he modestly I said “well you did a bloody good job of needlework.” “Wasn’t needlework it was staples”, which set me straight.
He then checked my neck, and chest, with his fingers, told me I was fine and that I needn’t come back in 6 months, like I’d been doing; but to come back in 12, just to keep an eye on me.
After being dismissed, I checked out with Isobel’s offsider, and I felt somewhat down when I said I don’t come back for 12 months, when I suggested making an appointment she told me that they’d write, and tell me when to come.
So after nigh on 2 years of sitting in Gods presence, regularly, I’ve been sent off into the wilderness. I shall miss our chats.
For those of you who are wondering, and I expect that is all of you, why I use Nathan Sebastian’s full name, it’s because I like the sound of it. At times I call Coco, my dog Nathan Sebastian. But that’s okay as I call Nathan Sebastian, Coco at times, so it all balances out nicely.