The MC Churning Machine

"What's the problem today?"

The doctor peered at me through his black wire-framed glasses. His expression solemn. He was rather tall and lanky, with a distinctive hunch. I wondered if he suffered backaches from slouching over his desk for long hours. His room had a somewhat dreary and serious feel to match. Other than the basic furnishing (cupboard and examination table), there was nothing else to add cheer to the consult room. No colourful educational posters. No ornaments or pictures to give a glimpse to his life outside work

"I've got a flu and sore throat." I replied cheerfully, relaxed from my long rest at home.

"For how many days? Have you got a fever? Do you still have a sore throat?" He fired away while he focussed on my white patient card, waiting to pen down my answers.

"Oh, it started yesterday with a runny nose. No signs of fever. Not that I know of anyway. My sore throat was really bad last night, but it feels ok today. Seems like it has progressed into a cough with some phelm..."

"Have you got a sore throat now?" He injected matter- of- factly, still looking at the card.

"It feels better today...."

"Is your throat still sore?" His pen waiting, hovering over the card. Strangely, he appeared to be addressing the card instead of me, his patient. His expression dead-pan. Then I realised what he was getting at - he wanted straight answers and nothing more than that.

I pondered over his last question and at the ambiguity of my answer. I really didn't know, my throat felt kind of uncomfortable, but much less painful then yesterday. It was healing but just not completely.

"No, I haven't got a sorethroat now. " I decided assertively. " Just a slight phelmy cough."

After a couple more quick and direct questions, he measured my temperature with a thermo scanner, then whipped out his pen torch and wasted only 1 s to peer into my mouth. With that rapid scrutiny, I wondered if he would have noticed anything less than a large tumour down my throat.

Wasting no time, he proceeded to auscultate my chest at a record time, before taking my blood pressure. He ended each examination procedure with nothing more than a quick nod of the head, bearing one constant solemn look.

"Do you need an MC (medical certificate)?" He already knew the answer, so he continued, "For how many days?"

"Just for today, thanks." He signed the cert without further ado and told me that was all.

"And oh, by the way, I think I still have a sore throat after all," I added, deciding that my throat somehow didn't feel quite right. He nodded his head every so slightly. I wondered if he was annoyed at the fickleness of my answer, although his no-nonsense, dead pan look betrayed nothing.

I popped back to the blanched waiting room, where my other half was, a single lonesome soul sitting on the couch with black flaking PVC upholstery. "That's it?" He looked at me inquiringly. Yup, that's it. The entire consult took all but 5 min of our time. With a doctor that impersonal, it wasn't surprising that there was no queue at all in the waiting room.

Was Dr X simply having a bad day? Or maybe he was just tired of mechanically issuing MCs for the daily quota of boring cough, cold, flu patients?

Will I return for his service in future? Sure why not, since it takes only mere 5 mins with minimal waiting time to get my official permission to get off work. However, he will have to work a lot harder to be my regular family doctor. With his quick, impersonal and somewhat mechanical style, my guess is that he will be just a MC churning machine for a long time more.