Trip to the doctor

I never like going to see the doctor, normally for the obvious reason that if you have to see the doctor it means that you are unwell. It's also because sometimes I know I'm going to hear something I don't want to. For example, "You need an injection", "You can't eat flapjacks ever again" or, worst of all, the intimidating sound of rubber smacking against flesh when the doctor puts their glove on.

Today was no different except my reasons for being nervous were:
1) I've studied a bit of clinical negligence law this year. No one ever brings a legal action if the doctor has done their job correctly, which means that every case I've studied has involved a doctor screwing up. This has given me a warped view of the competence of the medical profession in this country.
2) I watched Scrubs last night.

Having said that, this morning wasn't as bad as I thought. All my fears went out the window when I walked in to the surgery to find a quite attractive young GP waiting to mend my ills. I screamed an internal "woohoo!" in my head. It was like christmas and my birthday all rolled in to one. I even had to take my shirt off for her.

You'd think that taking your shirt off would be a good thing. Not for me though. Taking my shirt off means unleashing my belly upon the world. When she asked me to do this I knew my chances were scuppered.

Damn the lack of sit-ups I do.