I consider myself to be a patient reasonable person most of the time, but yesterday I woke up feeling like I was about to go to war. Patience you see is exhaustible, it can be used up, wrung out and dashed away, even the most patient of people like myself can spew up the bones of patience when pushed far enough, I is not Mary Poppins, I is just me. I had an appointment with a new doctor, new being the magic word, I was hoping for a human being in doctor form and not a nobjockey. Alas that was too much to ask and as I entered the pokey little office and caught her eyeing up my stressed out tresses piled haphazardly atop my head I wished I'd have sorted my barnet out.
So much of a doctors consultation is based on what you look like and your body language, I was knackered, without makeup (not a pretty sight) and bordering on quiet hysteria inside. I'm sure she must have sensed this and asked me what I was there for. She didn't have my notes you see. I told her I wanted relevant tests.
'Why?' she asks.
'Because I don't agree with the flaky diagnosis made by my previous doctor'
She stays composed but her rather large nostrils flare slightly and her pupils dilate.
'What makes you think your pain is caused by something else?'
'I don't think it is I know it is'
Her shoulders spring up slightly and she frowns.
I then reel off my whole history, AGAIN, quickly but articulately and I can see her squirming uncomfortably in her chair. She hasn't considered this and neither had my previous doctor.
She doesn't want me to be in her office eyeballing her and challenging her professional ability. I don't want to be there either, she's not listening and I can feel my face getting red and tiny puffs of smoke coming out my ears.
'I want the tests'
I'm now clutching the chair I'm sitting on with balled fists and my knuckles are white, I stare at my enagagement ring and remember the fella telling me not to lose my temper, they won't listen if you do that. They don't anyway. I feel like I'm a tiny volcano about to erupt but I look at her and smile like I've been sucking on aniseed.
' I want the tests or I'm going private and I will be getting a copy of my doctors notes too'.
She's about my age, maybe a bit older and I feel like ramming her prescription pad right down her throat, but of course I won't do that, I have patience.
Yeah reams and reams of patience that extends for years and years and never gets tired, like when I was six and my mum told me that if I ate all my readybrek, the readybrek man would come and do a dance for me, everyday at breakfast I waited and he never bastarding came.
Or like how I waited months on end to be picked to dance in the first row at ballet class when I was 8 and katy jones always got picked over me, or like when doorsteps callers don't fecking listen when you tell them you are not interested in having your loft insulated, or when your fellas' face just goes blank when you ask him to do the dishes after eating and in the end you have to stick typed directions on the fridge to get him to do them.
Yeah, patience got loads of that me and I came out of the doctors ready to cry, punch someone in the nose and spray paint 'nob jockeys' all the way across the practice window. My patience was tested again, but I held my own and sometimes even when you feel small and insignificant, even when you know you are right but no one is listening, even when you feel it is you against the world and you are outnumbered, have faith and have patience, because slow and steady wins the race.
Patience is needed to see a task through to a successful conclusion, even when you are furious, don't show them that you are furious, even when you want to cry, don't cry in front of them, patience is exhaustible but if you look hard enough you can find it within you.
Just take a deep breath and in the privacy of your living room, scream 'NOB JOCKEY', usually does the trick for me.