Your GP might be able to Zoom conference with you - there's an appointment available in two weeks.
Opinion by Wyn Drabble
Wyn Drabble is a teacher of English, a writer, a public speaker and a musician. He is based in Hawke’s Bay.
THREE KEY FACTS
New Zealand is currently 485 GPs short and “will struggle to train or bring in enough international medical graduates to meet this demand”, a briefing to Health Minister Dr Shane Reti has warned.
I think my memory is serving me correctly when I think back on going to the doctor in days of yore.
You would begin by sitting in a waiting room browsing ancient fishing magazines or periodicals clearly aimed at the agrarian sector. (If I may digressalready, you could be interested to know that a British Medical Journal study found that the reason why so many waiting room magazines are old is that, if they put new ones out, they get stolen.)
Anyway, that’s another story. Pretty soon, after a bit of browsing, the receptionist would say, “The doctor will see you now.” And in you went. You were face to face with your regular doctor. It was child’s play.
It’s all changed now. To the casual, untrained eye, the current situation is that you can’t actually see your doctor. Not in person. But he/she might be able to Zoom conference with you. There’s an appointment available in two weeks.
I cannot imagine how today’s kids play doctors. It used to involve a piece of hose around the neck to serve as a stethoscope and then some impromptu dialogue, usually beginning with an imperative to stick your tongue out and say aaah.
Today’s kids playing doctor would need effective Wi-Fi, at least two PCs, two phones and up-to-date passwords. As well as a spare two weeks. Parents would grow concerned because their dinner would get cold. If a trip to ED were involved, another week might be needed.
Modern child at play: Hello, I’d like to make an appointment to see a doctor, please.
Other child: Would you mind telling us the nature of your issue?
First child: Yes, I am experiencing discomfort in the abdominal region and I have blotchy spots all over my tummy.
Second child: Thank you. You’ll need to go to the patient portal on our website, enter your password and answer three security questions. When your information is validated, you can post some photos of your tummy.
First child: And then what will happen?
Second child: Someone will eventually contact you for a phone consultation.
First child: How long will that take?
Second Child: Usually about two weeks. If your symptoms worsen, take Panadol.
It certainly doesn’t sound as interesting as it used to be. There’s not a lot there to get young creative juices flowing. Playing marbles would probably provide more stimulation.
I believe it’s because the personal touch has gone, as it has from so many areas of modern life. As kids we also used to play shopkeepers but they’re a rare breed these days. They’ve been replaced by sales consultants or digital self-check-outs. In Japan, they’ve been replaced by vending machines.
Cops and robbers was good fun too but today’s version would involve social media and cybercrime. Cowboys and Indians was also fun but it’s probably not PC these days. Besides, it’s hard to find a decent cap gun.
If I were more tech-savvy I could invent a medical appointment video game. In video games, the goal is to overcome hurdles and finally achieve the ultimate level. In my game, some of the hurdles would be:
Waiting for someone to answer the phone
Listening to interminable options
Remembering your password
Accessing the patient portal
Making it through phone-triage
Uploading photos of the affected area in the correct format
But making it over the rigours of those hurdles would lead to the ultimate reward, seeing an actual doctor (well, an actual digital one). My video game might even appeal to today’s young.
Mother’s voice: Children, your dinner’s getting cold.