I have an almost pathological hatred of filling in forms. But in the medical realm that's even more inhibiting than fearing the sight of blood. As I discover every time I check in for a routine appointment.
Almost as bad as the anxiety about the diagnosis you're trotting along to receive is getting caught in the never-ending process of repeated questions about you and your medical history, dutifully recorded on pieces of paper, that no one ever looks at or refers to again.
Well Loki (at 2 and a half) had an early take on that the other day with a visit to the paediatrician - his father having received strict instructions from Loki's mum to ask certain very specific questions. Including whether there is something developmentally wrong with Loki because a kid at his nursery took his socks from him and he didn't complain.
Judging by the unmoved expression on the paediatrician's face, and the fact the session cost £250 for 20 minutes, it became very clear to me that most of this guy's extensive dosh comes from answering questions that require no medical training whatsoever.
I spent more time filling in the bleeding form no one is going read than the time he spent examining Loki to find nothing wrong with him.
Comments