Patients say the funniest things....

Embarrassed Chimp,originally uploaded by Greencolander


I was doing well today. The sun was shining and I left the house for the first time this week without being covered in little flecks of Weetabix flung randomly by the Duracell toddler. I was feeling pretty smart and thought I looked pretty good wearing my new jacket. I made the early train with time to spare so managed to sit down looking reasonably cool and collected holding a latte, as opposed to my usual windswept appearance after running and jumping on as the doors are closing. I had time to buy a copy of The Big Issue from the ridiculously cheerful homeless chap who nearly always shouts a cheery 'hello!' at me as I rush past. I was given the nice airy clinic room by the clerk as opposed to the tiny one that smells of feet on a dry day and wet cat on a wet day. I saw my patients who all seemed to be doing reasonably well, their medication was helping them, the work we were doing was helpful etc - all was good. I was pleased. Very pleased. Self-confidence was at a high.

On the way out of my clinic I bumped into a previous patient that I hadn't seen for some time. When I had last seen T he was an inpatient in a community learning disability unit. He was admitted due to his psychotic symptoms and had a history of arson when unwell.

T had remained in the unit for a number of months longer than was necessary after his mental state improved, due to the problems in finding him an appropriate place to live. Despite this prolonged stay, he had generally been a cheery kind of chap with a ruddy-faced appearance, nicotine stained fingers and a long black beard. I knew that he had had a tendency in the past to say extremely untactful, sometimes slightly inappropriate things to others but I had always got on well with him and hadn't experienced anything like that. He used to talk to me about his favourite football team and would tell me all about their most recent match. Although I often didn't know much about his team, I would ask him questions about the game and he would delight in telling me the details of the players, the fouls, the fights and the goals of course.

When he saw me today he hurled himself across the waiting room shouting my name and nearly bowling over a grumpy-looking secretary, her arms full of medical notes. She scowled at him but he carried on, totally oblivious shouting "Doctor, doctor!" I stopped and he launched into his news. After excitedly telling me details of his new shared accommodation, the signings made by his football club and his predictions for the season he suddenly stopped and peered at me closely for a few seconds. It was just getting to a point when I was about to ask him what he was looking at when he took a deep breath and said "do you know you have a bit of a moustache?". This was followed promptly by "it was OK to tell you that wasn't it? I just thought you ought to know".

I went an interesting shade of deep red and told him that it was fine. Outside, it started to drizzle with rain....