A #Bristol Blog: My GP Said I Have No Pulse in My Feet.

A humorous Bristol-based blog about the relatable absurdity of the modern health system, from pulse-less feet to the joys of Gabapentin side effects.

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As a Bristol local, my GP told me I have no pulse in my feet. Their words hung in the air like a poorly-timed fart in a crowded elevator. I immediately nodded in serious contemplation, as if she had just given me the secret to world peace. I mean, what else could I do? Panic? No. I already have a better plan: a generous sprinkling of lentils inside each shoe. After all, if they can resurrect a bland stew, surely they can bring a little life back to my toes.

My Bristol Specsavers Visit.

Next, it was a reminder from my Specsavers that it had been two years since they had last seen me, and I began to question which of us needed the eye test most. Still, I duly filled out the online pre-examination form for my next GP appointment in Bristol. Everything was fairly standard until I reached the final box: "Is there anything else you'd like to add?"

Given my particular brand of humour, I replied with a very serious, "I suppose tea and biscuits are out of the question?"

It prompted a rather rapid phone call back. I suppose they just wanted to verify my details weren't a prank, only to discover that my tone when speaking was as sardonic as my online form comment.

So, as part of my chronic pain management, with a hop, skip and a jump, for those on amphetamines but not me, over the street I go to Boots, in the Galleries, where my GP, in her infinite wisdom, has decided it would be best to swap my Zapain for the whimsical wonder drug, Gabapentin. This prescription medication is what I'm now told I can look forward to. Gone are the days of predictable pain relief. Now, I'm on the cusp of a truly enriching experience: a week or two of feeling like my internal gyroscope has been replaced with a spinning top, all while playing a thrilling game of "is it the Gabapentin or am I just this tired?" I'll soon discover the joy of carefully timed meals, where every bite is a strategic manoeuvre to outsmart the looming nausea, turning even the most mundane snack into a high-stakes culinary showdown. And for those moments when my stomach stages a full-blown rebellion, I'll be treated to a newfound appreciation for the subtle art of sipping water—because who needs a full bladder when you have the rich, amber hue of strong-smelling pee to chart your hydration journey? It's not a side effect; it's a lifestyle. On the face of it, I think I'll be giving a miss to Gabapentin, and just keep looking forward to my existing nocturnal lifestyle.

I suppose, at this point, I should add a footnote, but enough said already.