Dear LPG,

This lockdown has given us a lot of time to think and the oddest things come to mind sometimes…

I wonder how many of us older readers remember those days long ago, pre 1980, when the doctor’s surgery was often a place where there was just the one doctor; yours.  There was no standing out in the cold early in the morning or waiting for ages to get through by telephone.

When you needed to visit you expected the good old fashioned ‘first come first served’ system in place, unless a medical emergency helped you to skip the queue.  You knew, nearly as soon as you entered, just how long you would have to wait because you would spend the first minute or two counting the number of people who were already in the room to make sure you did not miss your place, even though you knew that the receptionist would call your name when the time came, (if there was one).

So you would be sitting on one of the many chairs and all the other people sitting there would immediately take a look at you as you entered.  You could see them analysing you, as they tried to work out what was wrong with you, for want of something else to do.  There would be the person with the obvious cough which gave their problem away somewhat, or the obviously pregnant lady, or man with a limp.  There was a lot to speculate about.

There would be a parent with a child that occupied their time as they indulged in a quite conversation or the parent was making sure that their little one was quiet.  Then your attention might be turned to the many medical leaflets and posters on the waiting room walls, although you would be very selective as to what you looked at or picked up in case it might give your fellow patients a clue as to what was wrong with you.   No one had a mobile phone though perhaps there would be the odd Walkman attached to the ears of a nodding head. 

So you would sit and wait making sure you knew who entered after you did and boredom would force the odd person to nod off momentarily, and then come to their senses with a degree of embarrassment (I know because sometimes that person was me).

When you got to see the doctor he knew you and exactly what was wrong which made that part of the visit more interactive and less about you watching him as he skimmed through your notes.

The thing that we were much more aware of back then was when the waiting was likely to end.  Sometimes we would even find someone to talk to. 

I bet I am not the only reader who thought that was hard work and all a bit inconvenient but our waiting to go back to life as we knew it before last March has taught us differently. 

The experiences of the past year or so when it sometimes seems as if there will never be an ending to our need for patience is testing the best of us in so many ways.  I strongly believe that it would be so much easier if we knew more about one detail of this pandemic.  We (particularly those self-isolators who are doing it alone), are all sitting at home waiting for a definite announcement which stops deferring the coronavirus - lockdown end and which seems as if it will never materialise. 

It is truly ironic that we need to look back to appreciate the meaning of true patience.

IP, Woolwich.