Not the doctors!

As I have my fitness test tomorrow it's probably about time I wrote about the medical. There's not much to say really as, to be honest, it was a pretty big waste of time.

To start off, I hate the doctors, of any kind. So I was more nervous about the medical then I was about the AST and interview put together. To make matters worse there was a confusion over how to read at the AFCO on the day of my medical. I received a phone call asking where I was and then telling me (at 1410hrs) that I was late for my appointment. Upon telling the bloke my appointment wasn't until 1440hrs he responded with "20 past 2 yes, but you need to be here 15 minutes early"

After explaining to Mr RAF how to tell the time he appologised for the confusion and told me that despite what my letter from them said, the medical was a little way from the office itself but I still needed to go there to pick up my paperwork. So unorganised this lot.

So I get to the office at 25 past, bang on time, and the bloke that has to sign me in has gone out for lunch. It must be such a hard job buzzing people through that door. To make matters worse, whilst I'm trying to phone, some woman appears, says to me "isn't it annoying when they do this?", swipes herself in and closes the door behind her, leaving me downstairs still.

When I eventually get hold of the AFCO to let them know I'm downstairs a man appears with my paperwork and a map showing me where to go to get to the doctors, and off I go.

My hatred of doctors worsens as I walk through the door and some delivery boy is talking rubbish whilst I'm waiting to sign in. Then I'm told to pee in this little sample bottle. I went to the toilet before I came dammit! And the stupid thing is too small anyway. My frustration at this point is beginning to boil over.

I sat in the waiting room for all of 30 seconds before noticing the funny looks. There was 3 pregnant women sat in the waiting room, another about to sign in and another just appearing from one of the doctors rooms. I, with my fancy BlackBerry and holding RAF paperwork, was takig up valuble doctor time on pregnant lady day. The nurse couldn't have come sooner.

The medical itself was dull. She tested my urine sample for something, weighed me, took my height (2cm shorter than I am at any other time, ever) and began with the real thing. Questions. That's all it was. Have you had this? Have you had that? Blah blah blah. I'm sure these questions were on he application form! Then I had a sight test, even though I had a prescription from a real optician that was only a week old. And some hearing test which bored me half to death.

After that it's upstairs to Dr Feelgood for the pysical check up. Yes you appear to have a heartbeat. Oh you can breathe, wonderful. No bones missing? All done. He checks my prescription (which the nurse didn't), writes "fit for RAF service", signs it and hands it back.

And off I go to the AFCO to give it to them and it's a done deal. And I hate doctors even more now