Benjamin Daniels is back. He may be older, wiser and more experienced, but his patients are no less outrageous.Drawing on his time working as a medical student, a locum, and a general practitioner, Dr Daniels would like to introduce you to…The old age pensioner who can't keep his hands to himself.The teenager convinced that he lost his virginity and caught HIV sometime between leaving a bar and waking up in a kebab shop.A female patient Dr Daniels recognises from his younger, bachelor years.The woman whose mobile phone turns up in an unexpected place.A Jack Russell with a bizarre foot fetish.Crackhead Kenny.Not to mention the super nurses, anxious parents, hypochondriacs, jumpy medical students and kaleidoscope of care workers that make up Dr Daniels' daily shift.Further Confessions of a GP is the eagerly anticipated follow-up to the bestselling Confessions of a GP. With more eyebrow-raising stories from the world of general practice, Dr Daniels will once again amuse, shock and surprise.You'll never feel the same about going to the doctor again…From the Back CoverFurther Confessions of a GP is a witty insight into the life of a family doctor. Funny and moving in equal measure it will change the way you look at your GP next time you pop in with the sniffles
This book is dedicated to my family and to coffee. If it wasn’t for my family the book would have been finished a year earlier. If it wasn’t for coffee, it wouldn’t have been finished at all.
‘Oh, and just one more thing, Doc, before I go. I’m reading this book…’ With that my patient pulled out a copy of
‘No,’ I lied, then added bravely, ‘Is it any good?’.
‘It’s all right, I suppose. Could definitely be a lot funnier and the author comes across as a bit of a self-righteous prat at times. I’ll lend it to you once I’ve finished it, if you like?’
‘Nah, you’re all right.’
I wrote
These are my further confessions.
‘You’re not Dr Bailey.’
‘No, Dr Bailey’s wife had a stroke yesterday and he is taking some time off to help care for her.’
‘But who’s going to look after me?’
‘Well, I’m going to be looking after Dr Bailey’s patients while he’s away.’
‘You’re no good,’ Mrs Patrick huffed, looking me up and down. ‘You don’t even know me. I always see Dr Bailey. When’s he coming back?’
‘I don’t know. His wife is really quite poorly.’
Mrs Patrick tutted loudly and I was left wondering if she was more upset with me for not being Dr Bailey, or Dr Bailey’s wife for selfishly having a stroke.
‘Might I be able to help at all? What’s brought you into the doctor’s surgery today?’
By this stage I was rather hoping that her obvious lack of faith in my abilities would lead to a short and easy consultation, but unfortunately Mrs Patrick sat glued to the seat for another 30 minutes. An endless array of intolerable sufferings were described in gruesome detail, but before allowing me to offer any possible solutions, she would curtly remind me that I couldn’t possibly help and how dreadful it was that Dr Bailey had left her in the lurch like this.
Most of the morning’s patients offered a little more sympathy for Dr Bailey’s predicament, but none seemed to consider me a worthy understudy. By the time I drove off on my first visit of my new job, I was feeling thoroughly demoralised.
My visit took me to a small house set back from the main road. An elderly gentleman with a warm face greeted me at the door with such an affectionate welcome that I was encouraged to believe that I might finally have met a patient who viewed me to be of some worth. As I reached out for a formal handshake, he clutched my hand in both of his and took an eternity to let go.
‘We so appreciate you coming out to see us what with it being your first day, Dr Daniels. My wife is upstairs. Are you going to bring her down?’
‘Erm, what do you mean bring her down?’
‘She can’t really manage the stairs these days, so Dr Bailey always carries her down to the lounge.’
My face must have given away my surprise and the kind old gent apologetically attempted to take back his request. ‘Well if you’re not able to manage her, Dr Daniels, I’m sure…’
‘No no,’ I interrupted. ‘I’m sure I’ll manage just fine.’ I was determined to match the feats of the mighty Dr Bailey on at least one occasion today.
Mrs Alexander didn’t weigh a great deal, but it wasn’t easy hoisting her up into a fireman’s hold and then navigating the narrow winding staircase. I’m fairly sure it wasn’t a technique advised on the ‘Lifting and Handling’ course I was forced to go on before I was allowed to qualify as a doctor. As I finally lowered Mrs Alexander on to the sofa, I tried not to look too exhausted by the whole ordeal.
