I think I may have mentioned before that I am not a big fan of needes. Except when Dr Best Friend is doing the sticking.
I went to see the good doctor today to get my thyroxine prescription filled, and to give her the low down on my visit to Dr Endocrine.
He's really good, I said. And a really big deal when it comes to all things endocrine. (I kept the magic throttling moment private though, since some things are too good to be shared. )
Oh, he is good, Dr Best Friend said. You know he discovered TSH?
Eh? Really? Cause, you know, wow. (surely not. Surely my Dr. E didn't actually discover TSH? Must look into that one).
Oh yes, she says. That's why I went to him.
I'm not sure if she meant she personally went to him, or if she went to him as in sending me. I rather thought from the inflection on the "I" that she, herself, has had a taste of a little thyroid difficulty, but one can never ask these things without sounding nosey.
Meanwhile she is sneaking over to the cupboard for weapons, and before I know it there is a needle plunged into my arm. For checking that the MMR worked. I didn't feel a thing. Moreover, I felt like our little needle moments were at last becoming something to look forward to.
I love Dr Best Friend. She sends me to reknowned endocrinologist specialists for free (well- NHS, let's not get carried away) and is referring E. and I to the infertility clinic for further tests. And when she says call any time, I think she means it. Well, she might not mean it so much if I really DID call all the time, but it's a nice thought.