At morning surgery, I got a call that an old lady had died at home in the night.
On arriving at the house, I walked in the unlocked side door and went upstairs to the bedroom, shouting 'Hello'.
The patient was in the bed as I approached. I was about to listen to the chest when she opened her eyes. I was aghast.
'Hello doctor. I wasn't expecting you,' she said.
I realised I had come to the wrong house, and said: 'I was in the area so I thought I would see how you were!'
She thanked me and I set off to the address of the same-name patient, still a bit shaken.
Dr Paul Hawkins, Itton, Chepstow
I was taken aback when a patient came into my room and told me the cream I had prescribed was absolutely useless.
Before I had a chance to scan through his notes about this non-existent rash, he added: 'But the earwax my pharmacist gave me was brilliant.'
I hardly had time to decipher whether he meant wax extracted from the humble bee or, secretly wishing he was giving himself a third degree burn from molten candle wax, when the patient pushed a tube of Eurax under my nose. The consultation ended predictably with a request for a sick note and a course of antibiotics.
Dr Philip Ting, West London
A patient handed in a note requesting a repeat prescription for 'Frolic acid'. It brightened up my day to think what a course of this treatment would do to some of my grumpier patients.
Dr Walter Mouat, Aberdeen
One of my septuagenarians smuggled her little terrier in to see me this week inside her TARDIS-like handbag and neatly plopped him on my consulting room table.
'The vet wants to charge me 50 quid to investigate the lump on his belly,' she explained. 'So would do it for free?' Nope.
Dr James Morton, Bournemouth, Dorset
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