...which turned out to go quite well. Since Jonathan was expected to start school at 8.40am, the local "surgery" (all doctor's offices are called "surgeries" here, rather disconcertingly at first take) conveniently scheduled our appointment for 7.55am, a bit before they normally receive patients. Jonathan and I arrived at 7.45am, and they cheerfully let us in from the cold.
The G.P. was exceedingly cordial, and simply asked what was needed. Laura had dropped off copies of Jonathan's medical records a week or so prior, so perhaps he had already reviewed Jonathan's history; or maybe they are always this receptive. Anyway, I showed him the printout our St. Cloud pharmacist had produced with our two-year prescription history, and indicated the units we needed renewed.
"Flovent," he repeated thoughtfully. "Floooooovent," rolling the sound around his tongue like a novel sweet. "Don't think we carry that one, but let's have a look." So saying, he pulled down a mammoth tome of international drug data, and peered through the densely printed index until he declared "Ah-hah!...so that's what it is. Yes, I think we can offer a comparable equivalent...but at 100µ...let's see, convert that and carry the three...yes, this ought to do it!"
With a flourish, he presented the newly translated prescription, ready for delivery to the neighborhood
(Yes, it's nice to have a "choice" in picking your doctors and providers in America, but so far the default selections have been more than adequate in the U.K.; and let's face it, NOBODY likes figuring out and paying medical bills, especially as you know they tend to over-charge, with the expectation that receiving insurance companies will winnow down the approved bill anyway. Taking me out of that rather ugly loop is a frank relief. Now the ghost of Ayn Rand, as embodied by the vitriolic spirit of Neal Boortz, can jump down my throat and tell me how I'm giving all my hard-won freedoms away for a bit of convenience...)