MELLIPOP : NOT DEAD YET

Ok, so I went back to the doctor to get my blood test results and walked out with a clean bill of health and – inexplicably - a prescription for a 2 inch-long contraceptive implant in my arm which would effectively render me sterile for three years.

So my visit with Dr Do-Nothing at the Sweatshop Medical Centre today confirmed the inevitable. My debilitating weekly migraines, it would seem, are all in my head.

According to my piss and blood plasma, I’m a perfect specimen of health and vitality, besides being a little on the “lower normal” scale for iron. Great. I’m just a gal who needs a couple of extra steaks a week.

I think the doctor was a little disappointed with the diagnosis himself. However, that didn’t stop him from whipping out the old prescription pad anyway. At the end of the session I made a general enquiry about the alternative contraceptive options currently available and my opportunistic GP seized the opportunity to crank up his commission with Big Pharma X.

DOCTOR: So, did you want me to prescribe you anything?

MELLIPOP: Umm…no, I’m fine thanks.

(Prescribe me what? Methadone, Lithium, Prozac, Thalidomide…? Did I just miss something? I thought we both just fucking agreed I was completely and certifiably healthy)

DOCTOR: Are you sure?

MELLIPOP: Aah….yeah. I really don’t need anything….

(Am I sure? Have I just stumbled onto the set of “Who Wants to Be a Prescription Drug Addict”. Yes I’m fucking sure. Lock it in Eddie!)

DOCTOR: Look, I’ll give you a prescription for the implant – just in case.

MELLIPOP: (sighs) Sure, whatever…

(Jeee-sus…. Just take the freakin’ prescription and LEAVE NOW, while you still have your damn ovaries intact woman…)

Yeah, so Dr Do-Nothing is really weird. Most of the consultation is conducted in this near lifeless monotone of professional detachment that borders on complete and utter disinterest - until he starts talking prescriptions. Then his eyes light up like a 13 year old boy who has just stumbled on his Dad’s hidden stash of titty-mags. It’s really quite disturbing in a medico-pornographic kind of way.

Nevertheless - I am healthy and fertile. Hurrah!