A very strange medical non-examination

As promised, here's the most extraordinarily weird happening I've heard about from that great British love hate region of a very important aspect of our way of life.

As I mentioned yesterday, this medical happening, or non-happening, happened in the last two weeks

and in Kent - normally quite civilised Kent, neighbouring very civilised, very wide awake London. I mean, this isn't a happening from the Orkneys or around the Shetlands, some far away part of the kingdom.

It was right here, almost in the metropolis, the home (we like to think) of the brightest and best.

My good friend has suffered ill-health, if I might put it this way, in his private region. He was referred to a specialist as the problem is quite serious.

Down trousers

The specialist, who came with an unEnglish name, had questions to ask, of course, which my friend answered. Then it was time for an examination.

He was directed to the examination area, where to borrow an old term, he dropped his trousers. As he climbed up onto the examination furniture, as best one can while attempting to maintain some sort of modesty, the specialist excused himself from the room as something 'urgent' had to be attended to.

The specialist returned shortly in a fluster, grabbing some documents off his desk. He said sorry but there was something he had to attend to right away. He handed my friend some medication ... and vanished through the door.

My friend, as you will recall, is still on the examination couch, trousers down, staring at the open door.

A salary of £46,000

He climbed off the couch and dressed himself. He looked at the medication, read swiftly through its fine print ... and found that it carried a warning that people with his disorder must never use it.
Continues on the blogs for my ocean adventure book, Sailing to Purgatory, at SailingToPurgatory.com