The Doctor will see you now...
Yesterday was the day of the medical.
Not one of my favourite things to do, but it had to be done, so off I went to a little place in London to probed and prodded!
The AHC give you a list of approved doctor's, so you can't just roll up to your GP and ask for an MOT. No, you have to spend £160 to get a stranger who has no idea of your medical history to ask you a few questions during a 30 minute exam, on which the rest of your life depends. Hmm.
So first they give me a little jar in a plastic bag, and I know what's coming next. Now, on the few occasions I've had to do this, I'm always in a quandary as to how much is enough; do you fill the whole thing, or just a little? Unlike previously, when the container has been very small and you have to be very precise with your aim, this was quite a generous sized receptacle and so my dilemma was increased. Just how much do they want?
So I retreat to the little boy's room (though in this case it's the little girl's room as the little boy's room was being refurbished) and, well, pee. There, I said it.
There is something very disconcerting about holding a container full of your own, warm, pee.
Anyway...
I deposit the sample in a cardboard kidney dish and do a bit more form filling, before the doctor finally calls me in.
She looks like the plump one from Trinny and Susannah, and is very efficient. "Please take out your form 26 and your passport and your photographs", she rattles off, before disappearing for a bit. I am organised; I have this info withing seconds of her walking out of the door, but am still left waiting.
When she returns, she sticks a piece of paper in my pee jar (most of which is then flushed away, I was too generous!) and apparently I don't have diabetes, which is a result.
A short sight test follows, with my glasses on (so I should be able to see very well, thank you!) and then it's "Right, take your clothes off and we'll measure you". Just as I'm about to baulk she adds "You can keep your underwear and socks on". Well, that's alright then.
So now I find I am 1.68 metres high (or about 5' 6" in old money). Then I have to lay on the couch whilst she prods me in various places, test my reflexes, and take a blood sample for the HIV test, which is mandatory for permanent residents.
Now I don't like needles, something which has only come on since adulthood, and she asks me if I'm OK with it. I tell her I'd prefer not to look, so she tells me to lay back down and think I'm at the hairdresser or something.
Are you having a laugh? I say. I'm as bald as a coot. This appears to be the first time she has noticed this, despite checking my passport and signing over a photo of me on the form. How observant.
Finally she checks my ears and my eyes and I'm giving a clean bill of health.
I ask if I get a copy of the form. I can, if I pay a £5 admin fee. Already £160 out of pocket, I'm now being charged a further £5 so I can get a copy of my form which is all about me. Oh, well, it's for a good cause.
On Friday I have my X-ray done, then that goes to the doctor and everything is then walked over to Australia House, and another hurdle will be overcome.
Not one of my favourite things to do, but it had to be done, so off I went to a little place in London to probed and prodded!
The AHC give you a list of approved doctor's, so you can't just roll up to your GP and ask for an MOT. No, you have to spend £160 to get a stranger who has no idea of your medical history to ask you a few questions during a 30 minute exam, on which the rest of your life depends. Hmm.
So first they give me a little jar in a plastic bag, and I know what's coming next. Now, on the few occasions I've had to do this, I'm always in a quandary as to how much is enough; do you fill the whole thing, or just a little? Unlike previously, when the container has been very small and you have to be very precise with your aim, this was quite a generous sized receptacle and so my dilemma was increased. Just how much do they want?
So I retreat to the little boy's room (though in this case it's the little girl's room as the little boy's room was being refurbished) and, well, pee. There, I said it.
There is something very disconcerting about holding a container full of your own, warm, pee.
Anyway...
I deposit the sample in a cardboard kidney dish and do a bit more form filling, before the doctor finally calls me in.
She looks like the plump one from Trinny and Susannah, and is very efficient. "Please take out your form 26 and your passport and your photographs", she rattles off, before disappearing for a bit. I am organised; I have this info withing seconds of her walking out of the door, but am still left waiting.
When she returns, she sticks a piece of paper in my pee jar (most of which is then flushed away, I was too generous!) and apparently I don't have diabetes, which is a result.
A short sight test follows, with my glasses on (so I should be able to see very well, thank you!) and then it's "Right, take your clothes off and we'll measure you". Just as I'm about to baulk she adds "You can keep your underwear and socks on". Well, that's alright then.
So now I find I am 1.68 metres high (or about 5' 6" in old money). Then I have to lay on the couch whilst she prods me in various places, test my reflexes, and take a blood sample for the HIV test, which is mandatory for permanent residents.
Now I don't like needles, something which has only come on since adulthood, and she asks me if I'm OK with it. I tell her I'd prefer not to look, so she tells me to lay back down and think I'm at the hairdresser or something.
Are you having a laugh? I say. I'm as bald as a coot. This appears to be the first time she has noticed this, despite checking my passport and signing over a photo of me on the form. How observant.
Finally she checks my ears and my eyes and I'm giving a clean bill of health.
I ask if I get a copy of the form. I can, if I pay a £5 admin fee. Already £160 out of pocket, I'm now being charged a further £5 so I can get a copy of my form which is all about me. Oh, well, it's for a good cause.
On Friday I have my X-ray done, then that goes to the doctor and everything is then walked over to Australia House, and another hurdle will be overcome.
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