| FOLLOWING A visit to my doctor’s, and after reading the letters in the Tele, I wrote the following verses:—
I had to go to the doc today,
At the health centre along the way;
Its handiness just fits the bill,
For checking my health, or getting a pill.
I’m glad to say my check went well,
Nothing was wrong that he could tell;
But to keep my well-being at its peak,
Could I make an appointment for the following week?
Now as a patient it’s usual when,
The doctor asks to see you again;
You make the appointment before you leave,
But what I heard next I couldn’t believe.
The receptionist turned and said to me,
You can’t make an appointment here, you see;
You have to make one over the telephone,
Give us a ring when you get home.
You’ll have to ring us after eight,
And after nine might be too late;
If you are lucky enough to get through,
Then we will book that appointment for you.
All the way home I kept thinking how,
They are running the health service now;
It seems to me that in this modern day,
They can’t tax the sick, but they can make you pay!
I can remember in days gone by,
Seeing my doctor eye to eye;
The nurse and receptionist both knew my name,
If I lay ill in bed the doctor came.
Now if I’m feeling sick let’s see,
Just how much it’s costing me;
To begin with I’ll have to pay for the call,
To see if there’s room for me at all.
And if they’re fully booked that day,
Ring again tomorrow is all they’ll say;
When eventually I do get to see the doc,
The prescription charges give me a shock.
It seems to me the older I am,
The Government doesn’t give a damn;
Life should be easy, but I’m having to strive,
Wondering how can I afford to stay alive.
— A. Campbell, Balunie Avenue, Dundee.
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