Medical London - Harley Street

My first morning in London was a busy one. Before going into work and before even getting my hair done, I had another appointment - a doctor's appointment that Delia had made for me. Not for the food poisoning, mind you, but for that cyst which needs surgery and which I've been so badly procrastinating on. Some day in the future perhaps I'll write a post chronicling my unfortunate experiences at the UCLA medical center which resulted in my just wanting to stick my head in the sand and not deal with this issue, but for now because suffice it to say that I didn't have the guts to fire a doctor who was not trustworthy and that there was too much else going on these last few months, what with the pops in the ICU and the overwork and the sleep deprivation and then the India trip, for me to focus on the bigger picture. Meanwhile, Delia - who's a great friend and a supremely practical person - realized that I was in no shape to move forward on this, so she did it for me.

So here I am. This, unlikely as it may seem to the eye accustomed to American functionality, is a doctor's office in London. On Harley Street no less - Delia is not one to mess around.

The rest of the waiting room. Not what I remember health care looking like when I lived here. But then again - this is outside the NHS, as of course I'm no longer a resident.

The hallway up to the treatment rooms. The doctor himself was fantastic. He answered all my questions, resolved the thorny issues that had me stuck, all while exposing the UCLA doctor as the unsavory character he is without even trying. I was very impressed. This London doctor was so competent and sensible and straight forward and reassuring that I'm very tempted to go back and have my surgery done here. Need I add that the cost here is a fraction of what it would be in the States?

And after the appointment, when I went to settle my bill, it turned out that not only had Delia booked the appointment, she had also paid for it. And wouldn't let me reimburse her. Can you believe it? I was so touched by her thoughtfulness and generosity that I just about started bawling right there in the doctor's office (I get weepy when I'm sick and jetlagged). It didn't help my composure that the office manager declared "You have a very good friend here", and then went off about the importance of the heart in living a good life. All this to say, thank you so much, Delia! This was one of the kindest things anyone has ever done for me, and I appreciate it more than words can say.