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At the heart of general practice since 1960

Dr Rob Bailey

... on the bishop, the cockerel and the crow

... on the bishop, the cockerel and the crow

The best thing about my practice is the people who work in it.

And the worst is the paperwork!

I first became interested in breast cancer medicine when I was asked to become a clinical assistant for one session per week. Seventeen years later and I'm now doing three sessions and am as interested as ever.

The main problem with the two-week referral rule for cancer patients is it doesn't work.

My funniest moment as a GP was when a senior member of the clergy and member of the House of Lords (long deceased) fell down the stairs and injured his leg. A fracture was suspected and arrangements made to send him to A&E. But the sister in charge expressed consternation regarding his elevated status. ‘Oh, dear, how do we address him?' she asked. ‘They want to know what to call you, Bishop?' Without delay came the reply: ‘Silly old sod would seem the most appropriate.'

The best reason for a sicknote a patient has given me is... I can't think of one at the moment, but I like the excuse given to his wife by a husband. Wife: ‘Where've you been?' Husband: ‘I've been playing darts with the lads.' Wife: ‘Three bloody weeks?!' Husband: ‘It were an away match!'

My greatest fear is senility.

The trait I most dislike in myself is losing my rag.

The trait I most dislike in others is not using their common sense.

Not having time to do the job is the most annoying thing about being a GP.

The Scottish Highlands is the place I would most like to practise as a GP.

The vehicle I own is a Mini Cooper.

My most treasured possession is my sanity (and my health, if you'll allow me two).

My favourite word is serendipity.

My guiltiest pleasure is another glass of Bushmills.

The book I'm reading at the moment is The Very Best of Linda Smith.

The thing that annoys me most in the world is man's inhumanity to man.

My greatest achievement is keeping going.

That ******* cockerel at the end of the garden keeps me awake at night.

Failure makes me depressed.

I relax by walking.

The guests at my ideal dinner party would be Nelson Mandela, Samuel Pepys, Dorothy Parker and Richard Dawkins.

My favourite fictional GP is the one in Ian Banks's The Crow Road who forgets to enter that vital item on the cremation form – giving rise to the great first line: ‘It was the day my grandmother exploded.'

If I wasn't a GP I'd be a national park ranger.

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