After a week with a sore throat the like of which I have never experienced I decided to go to the Doctor’s. This is a rare even because I am generally a healthy person.
The Doctor, a woman in her fifties, made no attempt at making me feel at ease and very brusquely asked me what the matter was. She examined me without actually touching me, not even with an implement to look down my throat. This cursory glance would have resulted in a dismissal were it not for the fact that I told the Doctor that my wife had similar symptoms a week before and only after taking her to the emergency surgery in Crawley did someone identify an infection deep in her throat.
To be on the safe side the Doctor begrudgingly prescribed a dose of antibiotics, but at a level half that given to my wife. I am considerably bigger in body mass than my wife. I am not an expert on the way that antibiotics work but I would have thought a bigger dose would be needed due to my size and the fact that the infection had a week’s headstart.
So a week later it is no surprise to me at all that my throat, whilst a little better, still hurts. Two days ago I phoned the surgery to tell them that I thought I needed more antibiotics. I had to interrupt the receptionist three times as she tried to hang up before she told me the process that I should follow to get more antibiotics.
So this morning I picked up the antibiotics and I am going to ignore instructions and take 500mg, not a puny 250mg that wouldn’t help a field mouse. I think I know what I need better than my Doctor. That is a scary thing to say but I fear that our Doctor’s surgery does not value or care about its patients. Yes I mean you Ship Street Surgery in East Grinstead……