Yesterday was three medical appointments.
The first was at Te Kāika, a medical clinic I only vaguely knew existed. Seeing it in action and realising how much it was stolen from the Maori health autority when the Nats shut it down and repurposed it (very awkwardly) to both take some over flow from the hospital and also be a Ministry of Social Development centre. The building really wasn't designed for the way it is being used.
Appointment went fine though, if longer than it should have been as the machine was having issues with me. So a robot voice kept saying "No eye located" while flashing a green light straight in my eye. And thus the technician had to prod at the eyelids a bunch (without warning).
The latter two appointments were at least both at my GP's office. A nurse going through lifestyle stuff with me and congratulating me on my vastly improved HbA1c, and also poking my feet.
Then for the expected awkward awkwardness with the GP. Who mostly agreed that what I had self diagnoses as dermatitis healing badly did indeed look like that, and showed no signs of any sort of infection - but as my meds have fungal balanitis pretty high on the side effects list I have been given antifungal hydrocortisone cream to use just to be sure. The examination was not only awkward in itself, but there had to be a health improvement practitioner in the room (though, fortunately, on the other side of the curtain).
That is probably enough medical oversharing.
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