..... things just, y'know, work.
So say the dulcet tones of P J O'Rourke in an ad on the telly. You can tell it's a modern ad because you can remember the slogan and the voice, but not the product in question. And don't get me started on P J advertising stuff.... it's about as bad as those twisted swine who are now using the Clash to back their ads. In the words of Bill Hicks, "Just kill yourselves 'K? 'K." But here I am digressing before I've even got going.
As I was trying to say before I so rudely interrupted myself, sometimes things just work. And it's nice. By way of example the following:
Recently married couples tend to book joint appointments for one of two reasons, generally towards the end of the surgery, and usually on a Thursday or a Friday for some reason. The reasons are either that it's not working, or, that it's not working. In other words either they are failing to conceive, or, more rarely, having problems with consummation.
In dear old blighty this is usually a trigger for a consultation full of long uncomfortable (pregnant obviously not being the word here) pauses or Pythonesque "You know, nudge, nudge" episodes. But sometimes you get a couple-- well ok, a wife at least-- who knows what they are doing, has done it all right, at it's still not working.
Just such a couple came to see me six weeks ago. The consultation ran like clockwork with minimal embarrassment, even when we had to take the poor husband through the technicalities of the "Male Fertility Test".
A week later they were back for the result of the said test, and it was, as they tend to be these days, just normal. Which in these terms was likely normal enough. And so we turned our attention to his good lady, and organized the initial battery of investigations (entailing about an armful of blood for assays of just about everything you can think of). As a parting shot, as I usually do, I tried to reassure them that everything was probably going to be normal, and that they might just need to relax and enjoy the attempts more rather than pressurizing themselves at each outing.
"Give the problem over to us to worry about and just get on with life."
Yesterday she had a solo appointment, and I noted the battery of tests were not yet back from the lab. In the event she hadn't bothered. She bought a test of her own from the pharmacy, and sure enough it confirmed her pregnancy.
It is nice when things just work.
And surprising how often they can, given half a chance.