The ghost of Monty Python is apparently abroad. Or to put it another way I’ve just had another of those completely surreal consultations that leave me marveling on the vagaries of the human character and chortling quietly to myself.
The first clue that things were going to be less than straightforward was Lynda’s admission right at the outset that she was “… in a bit of a mess.” Lynda is a woman of middle years, and not generally prone to euphemism. The second clue passed me by at first, but on the desk she had deposited her car keys—nothing unusual in that—hanging from a cutesy teddy bear key-ring.
It transpired that a few weeks ago Lynda had an intimate liaison with a “new partner”. Or a good old fashioned one night stand to be more accurate. Some weeks on she was left with a continuing reminder of the same, and requires investigation to rule out STI. We agreed that rather than refer her straight to the GU clinic, to spare her blushes we could initiate investigations here and only refer if we found a complicated case of infection. From her symptoms the most likely culprit remained candida and so the full rigours of the GU clinic might well be unnecessary.
So as I was completing the microbiology form to arrange the requisite swabs, I happened to glance over to where teddy lay resplendent on the desk. There he lay in all his glory. I can assert his masculine gender with some certainty, since there he was hung quite literally “like a bear” and with a “Prince Albert” to boot. Keeping a straight face through the remainder of the consultation was a real challenge I must say…