Doctor No

This is one of those Plogs that if you are a parent, sibling or a slightly squeamish friend, you may wish to look away now.  I am going to discuss sex stuff, and if you're harbouring fantasies that I'm saving myself for marriage, further reading could leave you a little bit disappointed.

Last chance.  Look away now.

Seriously.  This Plog definitely falls into the "overshare" category.  "Too much information!" you will squeal.  And rightly so.  But it's tough luck.  You have been given your opportunity to flee.  Flee!

OK.  Staying?  OK then.

So, a few weeks ago I went to the doctor.  It was the time of year when I need to get my contraception reviewed - in my case the diaphragm.  Yes, I know, that's very 1970s of me, but I'm not a massive fan of messing with my hormones, as I'm quite mardy enough already.

I hadn't been to this doctor before.  I explained I just needed her to check the existing size still - ahem - fit OK and then prescribe a new one.

She looked perplexed.  "I've never done that before," she said.  "Not since my training."

"Oh," I said.

"We don't get many requests, you see."

"Right," I said.

"If you like, I could give it a go," she said.

Now, I try not to knock the NHS unnecessarily, but those aren't really the reassuring words you'd like to hear from your doctor.  "No, you're all right," said I.

"You need to go to the Family Planning Clinic," said Doctor Give It A Go.

So I did.  And to cut a long story short, they couldn't do it either because the NHS is shit.  Anyone would think I had a toxic fanny.

Finally, the Family Planning Clinic managed to ascertain which size I needed (based on guesswork, mostly) and told me I had to go back to the doctor and tell her which size it was.  Because they didn't have any in stock.

Cut to Friday.  This Friday.  And off I went to the doctor again.  Lucky me, I got Doctor Give It A Go.

"Hi," I said, "I'm not sure if you remember me but we had a conversation about prescribing a diaphragm.  I have the size you need to prescribe now if you could do that."

"Sure," she said.  She asked me the size.  I told her.

She then looked a bit panicked.  "What make is it?" she asked.

"I don't know," I replied. "Honestly, I'm not sure branding is a large part of their strategy."

She flicked through a medical paperback on her desk.  "It's just I need to prescribe a brand, you see."

"Well any will do.  I don't have brand loyalty.  So long as it keeps the babies away."

Ploggers, can you guess what she did next?  This is totally true.  She turned to her PC (which was totally visible to me), went to Internet Explorer, which had been minimised and Googled "diaphragm".  She then read the Wikipedia entry, the Planned Parenthood (US) site and then said, "Sorry, I don't know."

She then hit back twice on her browser, which brought up the Google results of her previous search.  I know know the patient before me had a haematoma.  Which I'm not sure is a great advert for patient confidentiality.  Though I have learned a lot about about the condition, so I guess that's good.

Then she gave me some great advice about putting olive oil in my ear which has now turned me completely deaf in my left ear.

I think I might leave that one for the private surgery near where I work to sort out.