Confessions of a GP

2. Have a diagnosis with a good name. I love the way molluscum contagiosum rolls off the tongue. The delightful Latin words entertain me so much that I have forgiven the fact that the condition they describe is an extremely mundane skin lesion that I have seen many hundreds of times.

3. Make me laugh. I will pardon a boring medical condition if it was obtained in a comical fashion. Sprained ankles are very dull but you will be entirely absolved if you managed to achieve your sprain by trying to do the moonwalk in a kebab shop while dressed as Scooby-Doo. If you actually just sprained your ankle by stepping awkwardly off the kerb, make up a more entertaining story and your doctor will view you in a better light.

4. Be attractive. When I was working in A&E, the orthopaedic surgeons were famous for avoiding seeing patients at any cost. The only time we ever saw them demonstrate any degree of enthusiasm about their chosen profession was when a particularly beautiful dance student injured her knee. I’m sure she didn’t really need admitting but they insisted that they kept a close eye on her on the ward for a few days.

5. Have a truly embarrassing problem. It must be awful to have to tell your doctor that you have an object stuck up your bottom, but if it is any consolation, it will absolutely make your doctor’s day. For me, the icing on the cake is always the ridiculous accompanying explanation: ‘So I was trying to save water by washing the vegetables while also taking a shower and then I slipped and what are the chances of landing on that courgette…’

I am proud to say that I do listen and show interest in my patients because I still maintain enthusiasm for my job. This is not because my day-to-day work in general practice is on the cutting edge of medical science, but because I have a genuine interest in the people and the stories behind the science of the illnesses. Of course, quite rightly when you are ill or injured, you have absolutely no reason to give two monkeys’ whether your condition holds any academic curiosity or entertainment value to the doctor you’re seeing — and why should you? Just one thing, though, if at the end of a long surgery you are 15 minutes through a monologue describing the detailed chronology of your athlete’s foot, don’t be overly offended if your doctor’s eyes glaze over somewhat.

The future?

If you get a bunch of GPs in a room together, it won’t be long before they start moaning about their jobs. This never ceases to amaze me, as I think we have it fairly good at the moment. We are paid well, work good hours and have an interesting and rewarding occupation. Despite this, GPs spend a great deal of time complaining about almost everything. I even heard a couple of GP partners complaining about how high their tax bill was going to be this year. I couldn’t help but point out that if they were going to earn 120K, then they couldn’t really expect any sympathy for paying a bit more to the treasury come April!

Some of my older patients reminisce fondly about the time when their own GP was on call 24 hours a day and was always on hand for an emergency visit. My uncle was one of those GPs. He would disappear from family dinners to deliver a baby, get home at 5 a.m. and then start morning surgery at 8 a.m. with a huge line of patients queuing out into the street. There is a wonderfully romantic, old-fashioned idea about that bygone time of the loyal and dedicated family GP. My auntie still has her late husband’s ex-patients stopping her in the street and telling her what a wonderful doctor he was. My uncle had no life outside of his work and rarely spent any time with his family. He missed his children growing up and dropped down dead shortly after retiring. I wouldn’t want to have had his life. My generation of young GPs is mostly much better at finding a balance between work and home life. I’m sorry that my patients have to see a GP they don’t know if they need a doctor on a Sunday night or while I’m on holiday, but I have a life too.