Yesterday:

I made the phone call to arrange for the OGTT yesterday. It's a while since I had the last done so I couldn't remember the exact process other than it involved fasting, drinking some syrupy crap and sitting around for a few hours whilst being punctured regularly with a hypodermic. Nothing too challenging, just something that killed a few hours of time I could never get back - I didn't even have a book with me last time...

"Hello, I'd like to make an appointment to get an OGTT done please"

"Which Doctor?"

"I don't think I need to see a Doctor, it's just a lab test"

"No, you need to see a Doctor first..."

"OK, when can I get it done"

"Today, or tomorrow morning... 09:00 or 10:00?"

"Oh OK then, better make it 10:00 tomorrow then"

That means my weekend lie in is out the window. It's Thursday here now which means it's 'virtual' Saturday. The clinic is a 45 minute drive away, but that should be OK, Saudi's don't really do early on a weekend, they're very much late night people as a rule of thumb - almost nocturnal at times. Still, it won't take too long to just see the Doc and get a time for the OGTT which will be the predictable result. After that, AM and I can get to the mall, grab a coffee and I can perhaps look for my Mum's 70th birthday present.

This Morning:

So we're up and out of the house by 09:00, mobile if a little sleepy - I've not really been doing the early night thing recently, which means I've been subsisting on around 5 hours a night on work days, catching up big time on the weekends. The OGTT has just cut into catch up time. We're out though, me behind the wheel of the Durango, AM in the passenger seat, iPod in the FM dock playing away randomly as always. The last week or so has finally seen November weather catch up with us, so the predicted rains have come upon us and the temperature no longer gets above 15C. This morning it's grey overhead and in the distance, towards the city centre where we're headed, it looks greyer still. Inevitably within 5 minutes of leaving the safety of the compound, the windscreen is beginning to spot up - oh goody, this is going to be fun. Wet weather driving is not to be recommended in these parts. During the summer months, the roads become slick with a layer of rubber and an assorted range of flammable liquids that never shifts because there's nothing to wash it away. By the time November comes, it's been baked hard and ground into an already polished tarmac surface. Throw water on it and you may as well be setting up an ice rink, one that's been allowed to soften slightly so that the surface melts and can flatten itself out before re-freezing.

We head further into it and the rain begins to come down heavier, nothing torrential, but enough that mean the wipers need to go on, lowest intermittent setting to start but as the distance towards the centre shrinks, the frequency of the blades moving in front of me increases inversely. By the time we're half way there, we're on a new section of road surface and the car is becoming distinctly nervous in it's disposition on the road; anti-lock cutting in at the slightest provocation, the occasional shimmy on acceleration. Carefully does it now. The roads are quiet though and as we get a little further on, it seems that we've passed under the cloud and things are getting easier. The rain eases off, the wipers go off, but the road is still damp in places. Nearly there. In the end we reach the clinic none the worse for it and what's more we're there in 35 minutes and parking is a doddle for a change.

Inside all is calm, we follow a Saudi girl to the lifts, she works here - white medical jacket on but still wearing a black headscarf and veil. She presses the button to go up, hears the ding of the lift arriving, but seems unsure which door to head for...

"Come on, which lift is it?"

The right one opens and we follow her in to the cramped compartment, doors sliding closed behind us. She turns seeing two Western faces and it dawns on her that we heard her frustration outside. Behind the veil, her eyes are lit up with an embarrassed smile - she knows we heard. As we leave on the second floor, we head for the reception desk, behind which the girl has just walked.

"Yes, can I help you?" she says... smile still firmly fixed in place. She points us round the corner and we head off to my appointment.

I hand my cards and referral over at the next desk. I still don't know that name of the Doctor. It's been repeated at me over half a dozen times now, but I still can't quite get the gist of what's being said to me. Not a problem though, my appointment and name are on the systems, so we go out to the waiting area. As we sit, both AM and I notice the various posters inviting us to get treated in an assortment of manners. Something about getting you stomach reduced in size; we can tell because of the step sequence diagrams provided, not the Arabic script accompanying it. "Better a colonoscopy today, than colon cancer tomorrow" and one on diabetes, but that's too far down to read the details - I'm glad of that one.

Another girl comes out and I'm taken in for height, weight, temperature and blood pressure measurements. Nothing unusual here, so I go and sit down again.

Eventually another member of the admin staff comes out to tell me the Doctor says I don't need to see him, I can just go down to the lab to get the OGTT done. I must looked confused at this, but I'm guessing he sees a lot of referrals like this and he just needs to compare it with my previous notes - I've been there more than once. She offers to take us to the right place, so with notes in hand, she leads the way back down to the lifts.

Back on the ground floor again, we're taken towards the back of the building and she hands the notes over to another receptionist, chatting away in Arabic to him. He invites us to take a seat and we wait again.

After a few minutes typing away at his keyboard, it begins to look with some certainty that he's not just booking me the right appointment so that we can leave and resume the day. I can hear the temperature rise in AM's voice as she becomes a little agitated at being kept waiting for no apparent reason.

"How long does it take to make an appointment?"

It's not altogether clear.

Above the door is another admonition to personal health care - "Old smokers don't get old, they die young..." - this is cheerful stuff I'm reading. You can't accuse the Saudi's of pulling their punches, there's a very matter of fact air about it all.

The receptionist heads out back with a folder in his hands. A minute or two later and I vaguely hear my name being mispronounced - I'm used to it these days and would probably respond to a shout of "Fido" if required. I get up and go towards where another Saudi lady is holding what are clearly my notes, inviting me into a cubicle. As I step inside, I can see the usual accoutrements and paraphernalia of the phlebotomist - they think I'm here for the OGTT now.

She realises there's been some error.

"Have you been fasting?"

"No" I say, "when I rang for an appointment, they said I had to see a Doctor first"

"You can come any time, no need for appointment. How long since your last meal?"

"I had breakfast this morning"

"You need to fast for 12 hours. We do blood test, then after one hour I take blood again, 3 times, you're here for 3 hours. You can come any time"

"What is the earliest time I can come?"

"You can come any time"

"No, when do you open? What is the earliest time I can come?"

"You can come any time from 08:30"

"So you start at 08:30 then?"

"Yes, you can come any time, no need for appointment"

I follow her back to the receptionists desk.

"I'll come on Sunday morning then, I can't do Saturday"

"OK, you can come any time" the mantra continues...

She passes me a piece of paper to bring back with me and we leave. Outside, it's still wet on the ground and we go shopping....