Wednesday 30th October 1991   Morning surgery 10:40

“You’re back . . . with the same blocked nose?” My Dad looked up as Mr Palmer came in.
“Yes, doctor. I made sure that I booked a routine appointment when you weren’t on call.”
“Well, I’m still very busy. I’m running late.”
“Do you want me to book a different day?”
“No, no. We will have to sort this blocked nose of yours out. You say that you have had it for 10 years?”
“Yes, doctor.”
“And there wasn’t any injury?”
“No, doctor.”
“No one has ever punched you on the nose?”
“No, doctor.”
“Are you certain? Surely, someone must have, at some stage.”
“I don’t think so, doctor.”
My Dad did not look convinced but he carried on.
“Does your nose run a lot?”
“No, not much.”
“Do you get a lot of thick yellow or green catarrh?”
“No, doctor.”
“Do you get nosebleeds?”
“No . . .”Mr Palmer shook his head.
“Do you snore?”
“Yes, that’s the problem, really. I snore loudly.”
“I see.”
“It’s affecting my wife, doctor. My snoring keeps her awake. She is always tired. She is getting irritable. She’s had enough.”
“I see. Does this blocked nose bother you, personally?”
“No, it doesn’t, doctor.”
“So you are here because it is upsetting your wife.”
“Yes. She is at the end of her tether.”
“Well, Mr Palmer, perhaps it’s your wife I should be seeing.”
“I have booked her in with you tomorrow afternoon, doctor.”
“Tomorrow afternoon?”
“I am on call tomorrow afternoon. It is going to be really busy. I know that we are always busy but tomorrow afternoon will be busier. Dr Lewis is away again. Did the receptionist tell you that tomorrow afternoon was just for emergencies?”
“She did, doctor. I am very worried about my wife. I think that she is depressed.”
“She may be depressed, Mr Palmer, but I don’t think she is going to commit suicide because you’ve got a blocked nose. You could have waited until next week.”

The same blocked nose.
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