Doctor in Love

Doctor in Love

Language: English

Pages: 192


Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

In this hilarious romantic comedy, Richard Gordon awakes one morning with a headache. It takes him a while to realise he is ill – after all he is a doctor! Dr Pennyworth diagnoses jaundice and prescribes a spell in hospital. But amongst the bedpans and injections on Honesty ward, Richard falls in love – with his very own Florence Nightingale. However he soon learns that he has a rival for her affections, and unwilling to lose his love to the pachyderm Dr Hinyman, Richard sets out to impress…

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Place?” I nodded. “Well, imagine hearing it regularly once a month for the rest of your life. Not that it’s much of a tale to start with. No, I’m afraid anaesthesia is going to lose me.” “But haven’t you thought of trying some other specialty before burying yourself in Ireland? ENT, for instance? Obstetrics? Or psychiatry, now? That ought to be in your line.” “I’ve thought of it all right. But contrary to popular belief, psychiatry doesn’t consist of listening to beautiful blondes lying on

eighty per cent flavouring with no food value whatever and twenty per cent salt to save them from the putrefaction they so richly deserve.” Dr Farquarson started filling his insanitary-looking pipe. “The trouble with this generation is that its environment’s outstripping its intelligence. Look at the village idiot – a hundred years ago he sat contentedly on his bench outside the village inn. Someone occasionally gave him a little beer, and someone occasionally gave him a little hoeing. He never

dinner the day of my arrival, when he entered the dining-room with the self-assurance of Danny Kaye taking the stage at the Palladium and demanded in general “Is there a doctor in the house?” This simple remark sent everyone into roars of laughter. Sitting at the table next to mine, he tucked his napkin under his chin and continued to make funny remarks about doctors while I tried to concentrate solemnly on the Lancet. When he shortly struck up a conversation he expressed overwhelming surprise

uncomplicated. Until the morning I was called to see Mrs Tadwich. The address given by Miss Wildewinde turned out to be a flat over a sweetshop near the main street. I now always followed Dr Farquarson’s advice of trying to make the diagnosis before ringing the doorbell, and I stood on the mat deciding from the careless hang of the curtains and the grubby air of the paintwork that I was about to be confronted with an ageing widow with progressive myosis and rheumatoid arthritis. I felt an

in my letter.” I sympathized with him, remembering the table habits of Mr Tuppy. “At least, I’m relieved you suffered nothing worse. And I expect he found just as many objectionable habits in you.” “Good Lord,” said Grimsdyke in surprise. “That didn’t occur to me.” “But couldn’t you have gone out for a walk by yourself? Even in the condemned cell you get regular exercise.” “Oh, yes, they rather encouraged healthy walks, as long as you steered clear of other people. But the weather, old man!

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