Thought I’d just share this one with you.

Yesterday a parent came in to make an appointment for his 6 year daughter who had toothache. The family is Chinese, and the parent didn’t speak very good English, so he was asked to bring someone with him who does speak English in order to help translate.

Anyway Dad and daughter arrive for the appointment today whilst I’m seeing to another patient. Our receptionist informs me that dad has come with another adult, so I ask her to get them to complete a medical form whilst they are waiting.

On returning to reception I see Dad sat talking to another man in the waiting room. This bloke is of Afro-Caribbean origin and I’m therefore suitably impressed that he’d be able to speak Mandarin.

They are all ushered into the surgery and the little girl sits on the dental chair and lets me have a look at her teeth. It’s fairly obvious what’s causing the problem – loads of grotty teeth, but I need to ask a few questions to decide whether anti-biotics are required. At this point I look at the adult who’s come with Dad and say ‘can you ask her Dad how long she’s had the toothache and whether it’s been keeping her awake at night’

He then turns to Dad and in English repeats what I’ve just said, verbatim. I’m gobsmacked. Immediately realising that this bloke is going to be no use whatsoever, I then repeat the question addressing it to Dad this time, speaking slower and in somewhat stilted English. Our would-be ‘translator’ then repeats everything I’ve said in exactly the same manner. At this point my nurse leaves the room, unable to control her laughter for any longer. Being the true professional that I am, I manage to see it through to the end, just. Dad finally understood that his daughter needed a prescription and a referral for extractions under general anaesthetic, I think.


Reservoir Bogs 7m/1100ft

A bit of background info. It’s the 2nd race of part of a 3 day race series organised by Calder Valley Fell Runners. The route changes every year, maps with check-points are handed out with your number at registration. Last year I started, but wasn’t allowed to finish as I didn’t make the cut-off time.

Although desperately upset by this (it was my first ‘dnf’) I wasn’t the only one this affected. The rest of my associate retirees were from two clubs from Leicester and Essex who come ‘up north’ for a weekend of traipsing the Pennine Moors, while being refreshed by the local ales. Being dnf’d in the middle race would affect their standing in the whole series. In retrospect, instead of leaving in a huff, I should have stayed last year to add my two-penny-worth to the post-race discussion. Just as well I didn’t, as we got a generous 45 min early start option for this years’ race; I’d have argued for 30 mins.

So this is how 9 of us came to stand ready for the off at 10:45am on a drizzly Saturday morning, complete with our very own sweeper-marshall just to make sure we didn’t stray too far off course.

It was all a bit ‘Fred Karnos’ in the first 10 mins though. First, one runner started to spill his stash of mini mars bars, so we got slowed up whilst he scooped them up. Then the faster runner at the front turned to follow the flags marked out for the return route, no one shouted him back as it was obvious he shouldn’t have been with us anyway. And then when we reached the start of the moor and the first check-point, we’d got there before its marshall. Bet Thirza, our sweeper for the day, wondered what she’d let herself in for!

Thankfully for me the rest of the race passed uneventful. I was 2nd slow one, first lady and 9th back overall. Definitely very weird, and not wishing to be confused as a good runner, had to point out that I’d had an early start as I crossed the finish line. As if they didn’t know!

TF