Three weeks ago today, I went to see my doctor about my prostate and was sent for an x-ray on my little finger.

Two weeks ago today I had the accompanying blood test.

And one week ago today I was supposed to phone up for the results of both.

Unfortunately I've been busy making sure my own patients get their results on time, and having done five all-day clinics in a row, it wasn't until 8:45am this morning that I finally had a chat with my doctor.

He said the x-rays show degenerative changes. I said "Eh?". He said "It looks like arthritis".

So it's official: I'm old and decrepit. And my guitar-playing days could be numbered.

But not as numbered as my white blood cells. Apparently the haematology revealed a slightly low white blood cell count, so while I'm waiting to be referred to a rheumatologist at the hospital, I have to book myself in for a second blood test to confirm whether I have some hideous disease, or if I'm just more red-blooded than the average bloke. To be honest, I wasn't really paying attention. I was busy thinking about the retinopathy grading test I was due to sit at work, and which he was making me late for.

But the good news is I passed! After a year spent eyeballing the sugar-daddies of Sussex, I'm now officially qualified to diagnose diabetic retinopathy in the eyes of the unfortunate. It was the only decent test result I had all day.