What happens when you pull a sickie in France
In France if you suddenly become ill, let's say, at three in the morning, there is this wonderful system that allows you go and see your doctor from 4pm to 7pm the next day, you just walk in, wait to be seen and try not to die in the process - they will charge your familly, friends and descendants for removal expenses i suspect.
When i get ill - extremely rarely to be honest- i tend to want to go and see someone straight away. You just never can tell, can you : "Is that sudden pain between the shoulder blades an aorta that's just given out ?" "That thing that just went twang in my head, just then, right there, is that a brain haemorrhage in the making ?" .... heuuum, perhaps i oughtta take things easy 'till about five o'clock and go and see the man who knows ...
I really and truly thought i could macho it out (a typical bloke thing) with a few hot toddys and a few early nights. The result of which was to wake up at 3am with the sweats and trying desperately not to puke my guts out ... not nice.
Soooo, i phoned the cabinet médical pleading near death and woe is me etc (which usually works fine, given the accent anglais that i do tend to exploit shamelessly at times) only to be told that i couldn't be seen until 4pm and even then it might not be straight away - phew at least it's not something really important like a ...
Anyhow, i stayed in bed, not moaning and groaning because that only works if there's someone else in the house, threw things at the cats to keep 'em quiet and zapped around the rubbishy french daytime t.v (more on that another time) and duly trotted off to see my médecin traitant.
I thought i'd get there early, so i aimed to arrive at about 3.45pm.
I had no trouble on the road getting there (about 20 minutes), no trouble parking for once (youppi) and i was dead early ... the early worm and all that ... and as is always the case, i walked into a typical waiting room horror story scene : hyperactive sick kiddies, all coughs and wheezes and snot and gunk and .. byeurk .. jumping all over the waiting room furniture, all the better to share their microbes with everyone else .. how thoughtfull of the little angels.
A note to parents - would you kindly make more of an effort with your rejetons in medical waiting rooms please !! When people are ill they just don't like noise, they just don't need more stress, they especially don't like to worry about cross infections and - for us men at least - we don't want to be thinking "i wonder if they've got measles ?"
So anyway, by about 5pm (!!!!!!!!!!) i finally got to see my doctor who explained that i'd caught a very contagious bâtard virus - a nasty little bug that's doing the rounds which includes every kind of imaginable symptom - i'll spare you the gory details.
He saw me for about 15 minutes filled out a sick note and gave me a prescription for more drugs than Kieth Richards could neck in a weekend.
Not just any old drugs mind you - great, unfeasibly big, toytown pills that i'm sure, back in the dark old days of pharmacology, were once reserved for either A) horses or B) elephants ... so many, that i rattle when i walk.
Oh yeah, he charged me 20 euros for the experience.
Hopefully i should be well enough to go back to work on Monday - apparently there is going to be a film crew shooting scenes for a movie at the office ...
And that's about it for an intro.
Just remember: if your gonna be sick in France go see a medium first so that you know the day and the hour to book in advance. Don't leave home without any money; you've gotta pay the guy at the end of the consultation. Wear a protective mask specially designed to ward off the angels of infection/AKA/ Hyperactive sick kids.
When i get ill - extremely rarely to be honest- i tend to want to go and see someone straight away. You just never can tell, can you : "Is that sudden pain between the shoulder blades an aorta that's just given out ?" "That thing that just went twang in my head, just then, right there, is that a brain haemorrhage in the making ?" .... heuuum, perhaps i oughtta take things easy 'till about five o'clock and go and see the man who knows ...
I really and truly thought i could macho it out (a typical bloke thing) with a few hot toddys and a few early nights. The result of which was to wake up at 3am with the sweats and trying desperately not to puke my guts out ... not nice.
Soooo, i phoned the cabinet médical pleading near death and woe is me etc (which usually works fine, given the accent anglais that i do tend to exploit shamelessly at times) only to be told that i couldn't be seen until 4pm and even then it might not be straight away - phew at least it's not something really important like a ...
Anyhow, i stayed in bed, not moaning and groaning because that only works if there's someone else in the house, threw things at the cats to keep 'em quiet and zapped around the rubbishy french daytime t.v (more on that another time) and duly trotted off to see my médecin traitant.
I thought i'd get there early, so i aimed to arrive at about 3.45pm.
I had no trouble on the road getting there (about 20 minutes), no trouble parking for once (youppi) and i was dead early ... the early worm and all that ... and as is always the case, i walked into a typical waiting room horror story scene : hyperactive sick kiddies, all coughs and wheezes and snot and gunk and .. byeurk .. jumping all over the waiting room furniture, all the better to share their microbes with everyone else .. how thoughtfull of the little angels.
A note to parents - would you kindly make more of an effort with your rejetons in medical waiting rooms please !! When people are ill they just don't like noise, they just don't need more stress, they especially don't like to worry about cross infections and - for us men at least - we don't want to be thinking "i wonder if they've got measles ?"
So anyway, by about 5pm (!!!!!!!!!!) i finally got to see my doctor who explained that i'd caught a very contagious bâtard virus - a nasty little bug that's doing the rounds which includes every kind of imaginable symptom - i'll spare you the gory details.
He saw me for about 15 minutes filled out a sick note and gave me a prescription for more drugs than Kieth Richards could neck in a weekend.
Not just any old drugs mind you - great, unfeasibly big, toytown pills that i'm sure, back in the dark old days of pharmacology, were once reserved for either A) horses or B) elephants ... so many, that i rattle when i walk.
Oh yeah, he charged me 20 euros for the experience.
Hopefully i should be well enough to go back to work on Monday - apparently there is going to be a film crew shooting scenes for a movie at the office ...
And that's about it for an intro.
Just remember: if your gonna be sick in France go see a medium first so that you know the day and the hour to book in advance. Don't leave home without any money; you've gotta pay the guy at the end of the consultation. Wear a protective mask specially designed to ward off the angels of infection/AKA/ Hyperactive sick kids.
posted by Damiel | 10:03 AM
8 Comments:
Two old men siting in a retirement home chatting.
"I'm full of aches and pains today, Alf. How do you feel?"
Alf replies, " Like a newborn baby, Fred"
"Really!" says Fred "A newborn baby?"
"Yep no hair, no teeth and I've just Sh1t myself".
A (welsh ?) man walks into his bedroom with a sheep under his arm.
He says "honey..this is the pig that I am humping when you are not around"....
His wife in bed looks up and says "honey, that's not a pig, it is a sheep"
The man says "I wasn't talking to you!"
A man visits his elderly father who is in an old people's home.
Son: "Do you like it here?"
Father: "It's OK"
Son: "What's the food like?"
Father: "Pretty good"
Son: "Are you sleeping OK at night?"
Father: "Yes, fine. At bedtime the matron gives me a glass of warm milk and a Viagra tablet"
Son: "You don't mean Viagra ... it must be a sleeping tablet"
Father: "No, it's definitely Viagra. It's written on the tablet"
On his way out the some sees the matron:
Son: "Has my father settled in OK?"
Matron: "Yes, he's fine"
Son: "I think he's a bit confused though. He said that at bedtime you give him a glass of warm milk and a Viagra tablet"
Matron: "Yes, that's right. The warm milk helps him to sleep and the Viagra tablet stops him rolling out of bed"
"Can I have some Irish Sausages please?", asked Paddy.
The Assistant looked at him and asked "Are you Irish?"
"If I asked you for Italian Sausage, would you ask me if I was Italian?
Or, if I asked for German Bratwurst, would you ask me if I was German?
Or if I asked you for a Kosher Hot Dog, would you ask me if I was Jewish? Or, if I asked you for a Taco, would you ask me if I was Mexican?
Would Ya? Would Ya?"
The assistant says, "Well no".
"And", continued Paddy, "if I asked you for some Bourbon Whiskey, would you ask me if I was American? What about Danish Bacon, would you ask me if I was Danish?!!"
Well, no, I probably wouldn't!"
So with self-indignation, the Irishman says, "Well, all right then! So why ask me if I'm Irish just because I asked for Irish Sausages?!"
The Assistant replies, "Because you're in Homebase."
c'est pas trop 'politiquement correct' tout ça .. hein ;-))
Encore un peu de finesse dans ce magnifique blogue :
Q. What's so good about an Ethiopian blow job?
A. You know she'll swallow.
Et le meilleur pour la fin :-))
Q. Did you hear about the guy who lost his left arm and leg in a car crash?
A. He's all right now.
Q. Did you hear about the man who was tap dancing?
A. He broke his ankle when he fell into the sink.
Q. What's the difference between roast beef and pea soup?
A. Anyone can roast beef.
Q. Where do you find a no legged dog?
A. Right where you left him.
Q. Where do you get virgin wool from?
A. Ugly sheep.
Q. Why do bagpipers walk when they play?
A. They're trying to get away from the noise.
Q. What does Star Trek and toilet paper have in common?
A. They both circle Uranus looking for Black Holes.
Q. What's the definition of mixed emotions?
A. When you see your mother-in-law backing off a cliff in your new car.
Q. Why do chicken coops have two doors?
A. Because if it had four doors it's be a chicken sedan.
Hmm, maybe you could get Balajo to write your jokes page, Matey. I laughed and felt bad about that.....Later...
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