Has anyone ever been to the fish restaurant down at the harbour? I mean, anyone? How is it that I have never met anyone, anywhere, who has been there? Mind you, it's a looong walk for a bag of chips (and for many people, passing at least one other chip shop on the way). The chip shop part of it (Wee Hurrie?) had a savage review in the papers recently. But, as I said, I don't believe anybody's actually ever been there, so it must have been made up. I see a queue there sometimes when I go down to outstare the seals, but I'm convinced these people are paid to stand like that by the owners.
The restaurant's supposed to be excellent. But again, this comes from old reviews in old newspapers. There is no documented evidence of anyone every having "had their tea" there or anywhere near. It's probably a sham. I strongly suspect it's actually a disguised US base and they hold Dangerous Johnny Foreigners there before taking them via fishing boat to Ailsa Craig. Ninety percent of the building's under ground, you know. And the seals in the harbour have microphones hidden in their flippers.
Chips. Aren't they great? Isn't it marvellous that rich people eat fried potatoes too? Splendid.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Carefully does it...
I have to be a bit more careful here about how I phrase things. I, me, my family have experience of quite a number of the GPs in Troon and we've found them all, in our narrow and exclusively held opinion, to be rubbish. That, of course, leaves other GPs and other practices in Troon that may be simply marvellous. There, that should keep the lawyers happy (and perhaps I'll come to Troon lawyers another day).
When I lived elsewhere (we can call this the DDbT - Dark Days before Troon) I had a marvellous GP, Dr S. Not the cheeriest fellow ever, but he always listened, never rushed, always seemed interested. A prince amongst medical practitioners. Then came the days after DDbT. I had a very false introduction - two appointments taken by the most charming registrars. Attentive, eager, just like Dr S (although with more of a smile). And then I got the Partners. Ugh. No introductions, no interest, massive rush. Well, most of us don't excel at our jobs every day of the week, I suppose. But it was every appointment with their superior tone and condescending attitude. They must be terrified when their 4x4 has engine problems and they're at the mercy of the skills of the working classes. Anyway, all this is tolerable. I have better things to do in my life than waste time dealing with GPs that missed the lectures on bedside manner (like writing a blog where I complain about GPs that missed the lectures on bedside manner). It was the shoddy (ie wrong) diagnoses (note, plural) that got me. NHS24 gets a bad press. I think they're great, personally. Have been every time I've called them. They diagnosed Grump Junior with chickenpox over the phone, said we could get a last appointment with Troon GP1 that day. TGP1 gave a cursory glance and said "insect bites" and waved us away. Next day I take Grump Junior to Troon GP2 who says "oh, yes, chickenpox". You don't say. Again, we all make mistakes in our jobs. But for £100,000 I expect a GP to give more than a glance from a distance (he wanted his tea, perhaps) when a nurse, blind, has diagnosed something else.
That was bad enough. Some months later, Grump Junior was ill again. Terrible coughing, temperature, not eating. Three visits to Troon GP2 and Troon GP3 in two days - "go home and it'll clear up" x 3. A few hours after the last visit, I call NHS24 in desperation (I will NOT hear a word said against these people and this system) send us to a GP - a Dr Sommerville - at Crosshouse Hospital. He admits Grump Junior immediately saying "I think you're not being supported enough". Within 24 hours, Grump Junior is diagnosed with pneumonia. Guess what? We changed practice.
So far, new practice hasn't impressed, but the Grump Jury is still out.
Grump Junior made a full recovery, thanks to NHS24, Crosshouse Hospital, Dr Sommerville and his colleauges. No thanks to the GPs of Troon.
And you wonder why I'm bad-tempered?
When I lived elsewhere (we can call this the DDbT - Dark Days before Troon) I had a marvellous GP, Dr S. Not the cheeriest fellow ever, but he always listened, never rushed, always seemed interested. A prince amongst medical practitioners. Then came the days after DDbT. I had a very false introduction - two appointments taken by the most charming registrars. Attentive, eager, just like Dr S (although with more of a smile). And then I got the Partners. Ugh. No introductions, no interest, massive rush. Well, most of us don't excel at our jobs every day of the week, I suppose. But it was every appointment with their superior tone and condescending attitude. They must be terrified when their 4x4 has engine problems and they're at the mercy of the skills of the working classes. Anyway, all this is tolerable. I have better things to do in my life than waste time dealing with GPs that missed the lectures on bedside manner (like writing a blog where I complain about GPs that missed the lectures on bedside manner). It was the shoddy (ie wrong) diagnoses (note, plural) that got me. NHS24 gets a bad press. I think they're great, personally. Have been every time I've called them. They diagnosed Grump Junior with chickenpox over the phone, said we could get a last appointment with Troon GP1 that day. TGP1 gave a cursory glance and said "insect bites" and waved us away. Next day I take Grump Junior to Troon GP2 who says "oh, yes, chickenpox". You don't say. Again, we all make mistakes in our jobs. But for £100,000 I expect a GP to give more than a glance from a distance (he wanted his tea, perhaps) when a nurse, blind, has diagnosed something else.
That was bad enough. Some months later, Grump Junior was ill again. Terrible coughing, temperature, not eating. Three visits to Troon GP2 and Troon GP3 in two days - "go home and it'll clear up" x 3. A few hours after the last visit, I call NHS24 in desperation (I will NOT hear a word said against these people and this system) send us to a GP - a Dr Sommerville - at Crosshouse Hospital. He admits Grump Junior immediately saying "I think you're not being supported enough". Within 24 hours, Grump Junior is diagnosed with pneumonia. Guess what? We changed practice.
So far, new practice hasn't impressed, but the Grump Jury is still out.
Grump Junior made a full recovery, thanks to NHS24, Crosshouse Hospital, Dr Sommerville and his colleauges. No thanks to the GPs of Troon.
And you wonder why I'm bad-tempered?
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Gibbons
A different tack. Complaining with praise. The kiosk at Troon station. Why can't more small businesses be like this? They unfailingly say "Good Morning" (yeah, okay, I'm old-fashioned, but it's called basic courtesy and yes, I say it too - it's called basic humanity). They're friendly. They smile. I wouldn't blame them if they didn't, mind. Must make them sick to see people reading the Metro (or the Shite, as I like to call it) which they can get free on the platform. It's all culled from the internet and designed to be read by gibbons. But I digress. Is Network Rail trying to bankrupt people like this while infecting the dimmer members of society with drivel on paper?
There's a few of them work in that kiosk. Looks like family. Can we ask them to take over the running of the whole town?
And did anyone notice there were no plastic horses around town while until the SNP took over in Edinburgh?
There's a few of them work in that kiosk. Looks like family. Can we ask them to take over the running of the whole town?
And did anyone notice there were no plastic horses around town while until the SNP took over in Edinburgh?
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