“Diane*, I need your cooperation”, I said
to the receptionist. “Someone wants to know how long Dr …. has
been my GP**. And can I please have this in writing?”
Just as I should expect after numerous run-ins with penpushers, what seemed to me and the king as straightforward as it gets, didn't seem so from their desk. “It will have to be done by the doctor himself”, the problems started, “and there will be a charge”, they continued. “Diane*, I don't mind paying***, but I need this piece of paper now.****” “I'm sorry, I can't do it – it would be against the rules,” she replied. “Let me check when the doctor is available”, she looked at the computer screen. In the office room behind her two women were chatting away and laughing. Their voices suggested a topic unrelated to the health of the nation or, even worse, to the letter I was after.
Just as I should expect after numerous run-ins with penpushers, what seemed to me and the king as straightforward as it gets, didn't seem so from their desk. “It will have to be done by the doctor himself”, the problems started, “and there will be a charge”, they continued. “Diane*, I don't mind paying***, but I need this piece of paper now.****” “I'm sorry, I can't do it – it would be against the rules,” she replied. “Let me check when the doctor is available”, she looked at the computer screen. In the office room behind her two women were chatting away and laughing. Their voices suggested a topic unrelated to the health of the nation or, even worse, to the letter I was after.
I braced myself for another skirmish in the war between humankind and bureaucracy, a war I am at the forefront of. “Diane*, love*****, is it really
worth bothering a GP with a trifle like that? Why can't you just take
a brief glance at my file, write one sentence and print it out
on your surgery's cute headed paper?”
Diane looked up from the computer. Her
eyes warned me that she wouldn't fall for any 'common
sense' nonsense. “This is confidential information and
as such has to be authorised to the doctor before it's given to a
third party.” “But Diane*”, I tried to juggle in my mind composing the rest of the sentence and fantasising about strangling her for the general benefit of
humankind, “the information is about ME, and you'll give it to ME;
I'm not, by any stretch of imagination******, a third party.”
Little did I know that Diane had an ace
up her sleeve: “But how can we be sure what you'll do with the
information? Once you have it you may give it to a third party.*******”
For a second or two I hesitated whether
to blow up immediately or after I've expressed my opinion. I went for
the latter.
“Diane, why the hell are you doing this to our civilisation?? We're talking about a silly one-sentence statement about a most insignificant detail in which nobody should be interested in the first place. Now, on top of the time wasted by a bunch of useless and overpaid penpushers in one of the useless and overpaid government departments, you're wasting further time, that of my outrageously underpaid self! – and you're about to waste even more! You want to engage in this silly one-sentence business an outrageously expensive, and quite likely overpaid, GP!! His education and training cost hundreds of thousands of pounds and the knowledge and skills he has acquired are surely better spent helping the military-pharmaceutical complex grow, and who knows, maybe even curing some people in the process than writing stupid documents for some outrageously overpaid, useless penpushers. Can't you see, honey, that instead of being part of the solution, you're part of the country's problem now? Don't you know you're being paid for this idiotic conversation by outrageously overtaxed taxpayers?? Stop this nonsense right away and just do as I do: when confronted with bureaucratic imbeciles, go above theirs heads and consult directly King Common Sense. He'll give you the authority to overrule all the idiotic regulations, norms and forms the mindless, useless and overpaid forces of Pen-pushing can throw at you! Got it?? Then give me this bloody piece of bloody paper bloody now!”, I thought.
“Diane, why the hell are you doing this to our civilisation?? We're talking about a silly one-sentence statement about a most insignificant detail in which nobody should be interested in the first place. Now, on top of the time wasted by a bunch of useless and overpaid penpushers in one of the useless and overpaid government departments, you're wasting further time, that of my outrageously underpaid self! – and you're about to waste even more! You want to engage in this silly one-sentence business an outrageously expensive, and quite likely overpaid, GP!! His education and training cost hundreds of thousands of pounds and the knowledge and skills he has acquired are surely better spent helping the military-pharmaceutical complex grow, and who knows, maybe even curing some people in the process than writing stupid documents for some outrageously overpaid, useless penpushers. Can't you see, honey, that instead of being part of the solution, you're part of the country's problem now? Don't you know you're being paid for this idiotic conversation by outrageously overtaxed taxpayers?? Stop this nonsense right away and just do as I do: when confronted with bureaucratic imbeciles, go above theirs heads and consult directly King Common Sense. He'll give you the authority to overrule all the idiotic regulations, norms and forms the mindless, useless and overpaid forces of Pen-pushing can throw at you! Got it?? Then give me this bloody piece of bloody paper bloody now!”, I thought.
“I see. But I'd be extremely grateful
if you find some way of speeding this up”, I said. (To my eternal embarrassment I hereby own up that I failed to explode, contradicting some of my most strongly-held beliefs and seriously undermining my overall credibility.)
“I'll do my best,” she smiled.
“I'll do my best,” she smiled.
I started walking away. Then I turned
around. “Thank you, Diane**, I smiled back. "I love you********.”
*To be a bit more accurate: on noticing it on the tag, I just inaudibly whispered her beautiful name, without really uttering it.
**General practitioner, the local name for a doctor of first contact in the local country.
***well, I didn't mind paying, nor
could pay then; but I decided to omit that minor, purely technical
detail.
****true.
*****made-up, just to sex things up.
******as a philosopher I knew that
there may be a possibility of seeing ourselves as a third party, at
least by some stretch of imagination; but, obviously, I didn't want
to veer into that particular discussion just then, and not necessarily with Diane, if I had any choice.
*******true (that she said it and that I would show it to a third party).
********I didn't, but I decided to later on; and love - apart from, Schadenfreude (well, kind of) and a bunch of British idiots - will be the gist of the up-coming post scriptum.*******true (that she said it and that I would show it to a third party).
