Last year, after a teary breakdown in his office, my GP referred me to a psychologist (an 'ead doctor, as Bloody Ern would say). I went once, got some stuff off my chest and felt immeasurably better. While he said I was welcome back, we agreed that, neither of us being Jacqueline Susann fans, once was probably enough.
I was back in my GP's office this year for my annual check up. He mentioned the letter he had from the 'e.d. confirming that I was unlikely to be irreversibly crushed by some of life's random blows and that he didn't see the need to see me again. Then the GP mentioned this new scheme offered by Medicare, which, apparently, allows you up to twelve visits per year to a psychologist as part of an agreed mental health strategy with your doctor. The old private insurance doesn't cover much of the cost of these appointments and twelve free visits a year could be a real help for some people. I was a bit concerned that he was mentioning this to me as a hint but he assured me he was just throwing it out there.
A couple of days ago Bezley picked me up after work. A while ago she'd told me that she had a bundle of letters Bloody Ern and Dyzie had written to each other when Ern was in the army. Ern had wanted me to have them and Bezley handed them over on Tuesday saying, "You know what your father was like. These could be a bit fruity." I thought I'd leave them for a while, give myself some distance and all that guff, but lying there on the dining table they looked rather tempting. I decided that since my memories of Dyzie are from so long ago it might be safer to read one of hers just to get a feel for the content. I gingerly opened one in her writing and kind of squinted at it through one eye.
I think I'll be talking to my GP a little sooner rather than later about that strategy thing.