Mehdi seemed surprised to see me. Particularly when I asked him why I was there. He reminded me we had agreed I would not need to return until the stitches came out unless there was new information from pathology.
I agreed, and said that’s why I was surprised to get an invitation via the appointment app. this morning. Then it dawned on him. His face was a picture.
That’s what happens when you have automated protocols without human oversight. The results come in, an invitation is generated to make an appointment to discuss them. Anxious patients put two and two together.
As a dear old and wise friend used to say to me in a broad Norfolk accent – or was it a Norfolk Broad accent?;
“Doont joomp ta kon-kloo-shuns, lad”.
Sorry Norfolkers if I didn’t capture that properly. A fond memory. No piss-taking intended.
Mehdi apologised, I said I’d send him my fuel bill. He laughed. I smiled wryly.
He checked the wounds, expressed satisfaction that they are healing cleanly, but still won’t let me swim until the sutures come out. Bugger. If he had conceded that the trip would have been worthwhile.
At least I don’t have to pay for the appointment.