I visited my Doctor’s surgery for the first time ever yesterday. (I should mention that I’m not super-healthy; rather my old doctor retired and transferred my notes over without my intervention to the new surgery.) The surgery is not far away, but in a neighbourhood that I’m not familiar with – and I got lost. I’d just gone down an alleyway that is wide enough to drive a car down at one end, but at the far end is so narrow that I could barely walk down it and decided that I would need to ask a stranger for directions, when a miracle happened. I heard a four-year-old bug incubator cough, and knew that rescue was near at hand. Sure enough, the incubator and entourage turned into a property, and walked up to the door of the surgery.
I went inside, and asked the receptionist for an appointment. When one had been booked she said that she would text the details to me. There was a small problem; the number that she rather mysteriously had for me clearly wasn’t one that I used, and she resorted in the end to writing the appointment down on a piece of paper.
Once I had marvelled at the modern age I thought ahead to a new experience that I would have with the doctor. I am going to ask for another couple of boxes of pills, and it turns out that the modern age has invaded the ancient art of writing scripts. Presumably in an effort to get patients fit doctors no longer issue paper prescriptions. Instead they email the prescription over to a chemist and leave the patient to walk around town playing hunt the script. (My little joke – I’m sure that there is a way round this.) This modern technology is a marvel!
(Incidentally, I was told once by a pharmacist that the emailed scripts are printed out by the chemist. So no paper saved there then…)