Ok…
I left the pub opposite Bentick Mansions where I had been sat for a pint with my mum beforehand. I was really nervous because even though I knew what to expect… well, this time it was happening to me. My appointment was for 3:10pm.
I noticed that it said Knightsbridge doctors was on the 4th floor, so I walked in expecting to go upstairs – I apparently was already on the 4th floor though as it was right in front of me! I walked up to the reception window where a young but grumpy-looking receptionist greeted me with something along the lines of:
“Have you got your passport, photo, questionnaire, vaccination records…”
I dutifully handed it all over to her and she told me she would return it to me shortly and that I was to wait in the waiting room around the corner to the right.
I wandered around to the waiting room – there were a few other people in there as well but they were all sat separately and quietly. I just sat down nervously, wondering how long it was all going to take. The room was a typical old high-ceilinged affair with cream walls and white coving and details. The lead windows had a design in lead on them and I noticed one of them was slightly different to all the others for no apparent reason. I was that bored (read “scared” and trying to take my mind off of things!”).
The receptionist popped her head over the counter that opened out into the waiting room and handed me back my passport and gave me a clipboard with another medical questionnaire. It was pretty similar to the one you have to fill in beforehand but the print is smaller and it seemed a bit more confusing. I was petrified I was going to tick the wrong thing and be quarantined – truthfully though it was prolly just the nerves.
I ticked all the relevant boxes and left it on the reception desk in the waiting room.
A little while longer passes and I notice the trailing wire next to a radiator, the pile of magazines that no-one appeared to be reading. At this point I had seen a jovial male doctor wandering around and so I was surprised when a female nurse called my name.
She led me into a little room and talked to me about my vaccinations. Apparently I needed three – I knew one of them was HPV (don’t we all!?) and she wanted to know where and when I was going to get them done – as a K-1 applicant I didn’t need them for the visa, but I needed them to adjust status. I told her I was going to have HPV done in the US as it was much cheaper and we proceeded to discuss the pointlessness of having a vaccine such as HPV for the particular visa I was applying for – especially at the age of 26!!! Nevertheless, it still has to be done eventually… I asked what the other two vaccines I needed were and she advised me that I needed tetanus, diphtheria and polio (I pointed out the vaccination record she had missed – I actually had them done a couple of months ago so she scribbled that out!). She also told me that I needed an MMR booster… apparently because I had it over ten years ago the mumps part needed to be updated… or something… I didn’t really understand it but nodded and smiled and dutifully said I would get it done at my GP where it was free.
Job done. She signed off my vacs, handed me the sheet and explained I would need it for AOS and pointed me in the direction of the jovial doctor.
I went into his room and he was really friendly. Middle-aged, chatty and approachable he explained briefly what he was going to do along with anecdotes of people he had met and worked with and patients that were in different situations (all the while maintaining anonymity and being professional

). He explained that I needed to remove my necklace, bra, top and jumper and tie my hair up. This is when he started looking for his “elastic band things… I know I saw them earlier. Do you have something to tie your hair up with?” I said that I probably did and said I would look in my handbag. He dashed up the corridor just as I dug out my hairband so I called him back. I stripped to the waist and put on a soft blue cotton gown – a bit like a lightweight bathrobe in style.
The doctor had me rest my chin on top of a metal device that held a metal plate up. I had to squash against the plate, push my shoulders forward so they were touching the plate as well and put my hands behind my back to hold… something… It was squashy if that helps

He had me breathe in and out while he took the x-ray and that was it! I was then told to grab my things but remain robed and taken to wait in another waiting room.
The doctor came and sat with me and we had a chat about bits and pieces (his story about Nigel Mansell was pretty funny

) and then another, female doctor came in.
Dr Sayed was a youngish Asian lady. I quickly learned that she had a different approach to her job to the other doctor and so joking and laughing didn’t really come into it. She was nice but abrupt and matter-of-fact. Word of advice – if you get her, just tell it like it is and don’t bother to elaborate unless she asks (sounds like Immigration Officers

) as it appears to fall on deaf ears and I was left just feeling a little stupid…
She asked me a bunch of questions, particularly about the depression I suffered seven years ago then noticed my hand. The previous night my cat had decided that she would really like to play with my hand and so I had about 6 scratches going across the back of my wrist. I had said to my mum earlier that I *knew* something was going to be mentioned… so she asked me what they were and I told her that my cat had scratched me the previous night. Then she started asking me if I had ever had any history of self harm, ever tried to commit suicide and asked me to roll up my sleeves so she could check for scars from self-harming… She didn’t find any

She then went into a long lecture about depression and how it isn’t always depression, it is just not coping well with a difficult situation etc… Fine. I was asked to go over to the bed and she came to examine me… yay – I was really looking forward to this – not. I was asked to remove my robe so she could look at my breasts. I have acne on my face, back and chest so I was quite self conscious and she picked up that I scratch and told me off about that too – I can’t say I wasn’t expecting that

Then she asked me to pull down my jeans. So I did. Then she asked me to pull down my pants as well *cringe* so I did. She obviously decided that I was a girl as she told me to get dressed then lie down on the bed.
I got dressed (thankfully) and laid on the bed. She came back over and listened to my chest and said:
Her: You are aware you have a heart condition, aren’t you?
Me: Umm, no?
Her: Yes – you have a heart murmur.
Me: Oh. Right… What does that mean then?
She tells me she thinks I have had it for quite a while and that if it hasn’t caused me any problems so far then I should be fine but it was something to consider. At least I got something for my £180!!!
(NB: If anyone is interested,
Lily Allen also has a heart murmur)
She checked inside my mouth and then took my blood. Ouch. It stung a bit as the needle went in but it wasn’t anything worse than I was expecting. She finished and put some cotton wool on my arm and held it there tightly for a while before asking me to take over, which I do.
She potters around before coming back to me, informs me that I haven’t been pressing hard enough and that it was a really big needle and that it was in a pulmonary vein or something and that it will bruise really badly. She then proceeded to tourniquet my arm!!!
Eventually, she was satisfied that I wasn’t going to bleed out and instructed me to not carry anything with my right arm and that I need to keep pressing on it. I nodded, smiled and was dismissed after she told me that everything was fine, obviously pending blood test results.
That was it! I went back out to the reception and paid my £180 using my maestro card and went on my merry way!!