Part IV: Dr. Google

You don't realise you need your right arm & hand until you lose it.

His father used to always call him his "right hand man". A very poignant point at this moment.

Automatic transmission made driving to the clinic easy.

He walked to the clinic entrance, noticing a lady was about to open the door to exit, he lent forward to grab the door with his right hand.
It just hung there, arcing foward a little bit from the momentum. In what should have been a smooth, gentleman door opening moment, resulted in hesitation, repositioning of his left hand, in an awkward attempt to open the door, to no avail.
She glanced to make a shy meeting of the eyes. Her look was one of a lady who wanted to go about her business. She pushed the door open, stepping outside and holding the door to let him in.
He apologised, "My arm has gone numb." He explained, and then indignantly lifted up his forearm with his left hand, shaking the limp hand with a little jiggle, in a Mr Bean-esque way.
Her eyes looked at the flailing hand in horror. As though it might reach out to.strike her like a cobra.
She composed herself and responded with an awkward, half-smile, which switched to a lipsticked grimace of uncertainty.
This interaction had gone outside of social norms, and she wanted to get back to normality in 3 steps and 10 seconds.
He thanked her and stepped inside to free who from this social torturous moment.
He couldn't help but notice the Mercedes in the carpark with the licence plate, Dr GOLF, as he entered.

The clinic was quite full and he was told to take a seat and await the calling out of his name.

He picked up a magazine. He sat down to flick through it, and splashed on the top of one page, was the heading...
"Anger over Centrelink benefits for multiple Muslim wives"

Apparently, polygamus marriages, which were illegal under Australian law, were ignored by the welfare agency to save taxpayers money. That there were instances where a Muslim man might have 2 wives, the first receiving spousal benefits, while the second "wife", was receiving single parent benefits. By doing it this way, the government saved on paying out more in benefits or dealing with an illegal polygamous situation. Cultural sensitivities and the usual polarisation of the different groups involved. Un-Australian vs New Australian. They also highlighted a man, who had 8 children, to four women, all who were his wives in his home country, and was receiving a huge amount of money from the Government, that he would never want to find employment.

He didn't mind either way.
Well, the last part of the story was more contenrious, it showed the exploitation of a system that worked under previous societal conditions.
He had muslim friends. Some were more Aussie than him. Some were more tradional, based whatever country they came from, and enjoyed their traditions and cultures. Some were more "extreme" in their point of view -Multiculturalism at work.
Somehow, though, the laws and systems, seemed unable to keep up with the changing face of the demographics.

He looked up from his reading to look at the African muslim lady, based on the purple hijab she was wearing, looking casually at him. Her three children clung nearby her, one half asleep in her arms, one to her left and one plonked on the floor playing with some blocks.
She looked at him and gave a clear smile. A smile filled with contentment and joy at where she was in her life.
What a feeling it must be to smile with such contentment.
He wondered if he would ever smike in such a way.
70 minutes and he got to enter the little doctors office.

A young Indian man greeted him with a broad smile displaying his perfect white teeth while wearing his perfectly white doctor's jacket.
They were the whitest teeth he had ever seen. One of his friends used to get her teeth ultra violet treated, during lunchtimes, to make her teeth white. It cost her a fortune, and they would pale in comparison to this smile.

"Ah, how can I help you?"
"I have woken up and my arm has gone numb."
"Is there any pain at all?"
"Just little in my neck, but it feels ok now. I think sleeping on my arm put some strain here" He said. Reaching across the front of himself with his left arm to press on the back of his neck to the right.
"Ah I see." The doctor said typing and clicking into the computer.
He then did somw little tests on his breathing and then tested his blood pressure. He inspected his arm and hand. Lifted it and asked some questions about feeling and pain.
After some more questions the doctor said.
"I must write the referral for you to see a specialist".
"What do you think it is?" He queried the doctor.
"I am not certain, so it is better that you be going to see the specialist"

He lent a little over to peek at the doctor's screen.

"Is that Google?" He asked noticing a search bar and some results.
"No, but it is like, the Google. I call it, the Dr. Google!" He gave his pearly grin. He was very proud of his label for the system.
"I click on your symptoms, then it is giving to me, a narrowing down, of the causes. For you, it's telling me, to be sending you, to see the specialist. Very easy to be a Doctor in this country."

"What if it was an emergency?" He asked.

The doctor gave a secret smile. The smile was lips only so not even his teeth could bear witness.

"There is no emergency here." The doctor said shaking his head side to side slowly and mocing his index finger side to side in the same rythym.

"If the people can come to the clinic. If they can wait for one hour. How can it be emergency?" He lent further forward slightly,

"They want someone to listen to them, or they need the paper from the doctor to buy the medicines." He clapped his hands lightly as though removing crumbs from them and put his hands, palms out.
"No emergency if they can come here, to the clinic. If it was the emergency, they would already be directly to the hospitals." With a gesture flicking his hand to point at some imaginary distance, referring to some emergency department at the imaginary hospital.

Then he shared his smile again.

" You're Dr.GOLF, right?"

He handed over the referral and beamed his white pearls with a knowing sparkle in his eyes.

---

Part IV: Stroke

Part III: Divergent