WHAT’S ‘APP’ DOC?

I could never say that I was a technology whizz, therefore, I cringe when someone talks about the new or latest ‘this’ or ‘that’. It took me ages to use the automatic teller machine, or progress from the basic microwave; the kind that when you twist the dial to your right it cooks or to your left, it defrosts, to one that does almost everything. Come to that, the only thing I loved with a passion was my dishwasher, again fairly basic, but it did a powerful job. Mind you, I don’t know that much can be done to improve the design of the dishwasher; mine has been upgraded largely because the one I had was begging for retirement. Also, I have better things to do with my time than hand wash and dry china, pots and cutlery. With this in mind, imagine my horror when my niece, all bounce, curls and techno-savvy told me the other day about a whizz-bang app, I could insert on my phone if I so desired. The conversation went thus:

“Oh, Uncle Harry did you know that you can now have your mobile phone prompt you for health tips?”

“No, my dear. I only use my mobile for calls and texts, … oh and occasionally I use the camera.”

“Fairly basic then.” I had noticed the contempt in her voice.

“I don’t really need all that much Susan, truly,” I said in an attempt to pacify her.

“But the health prompt is good. It reminds you of your water intake and how much weight you have lost, the steps you take, calories burned, kilometres you walked, your dietary requirements and…”

“My dear, I am a retired GP, I know how to look after myself and stay healthy. I am not yet senile and not yet so poor I can only afford bread and cheese…”

The irony was missed on her; I will need to talk to my sister about the fact that ‘Uncle’ Harry is not from the dinosaur age after all.

Susan changed her tactic and showed me various other things, which I conceded would be of some use, for example, music, and the privacy protector and I asked her how to add these on, thinking in my innocence that this gesture would satisfy her; or rather, to be brutal, shut her up. Do you remember in years gone by an advert for paint, where the catchphrase was “Berger paints keep on keeping on!” which made the product a hit? Susan kept on keeping on until I gave in.

If it is one thing that irritates me it is bossy people; I tried so hard not to boss my patients around, I had more success with encouragement. Susan was young and her mother, my dear younger sister Cath, was a born boss cat, so no prizes for guessing where Susan learned her trait from. I took a big breath and played the role of the indulgent uncle.

“Okay, you win, but you will need to put these on for me, and show me how to take it or them whichever applies, off should I find the apps unsuitable for my needs.”

“Sure thing,” said Susan, taking my phone, massaging it with her long fingers, emphasising her nail polished (blue) nails. She responded to the prompts, effortlessly while I stood like a fat straw squeezed in amazement. In case you are wondering I am slim and six foot in height.

“There we go all fixed.” she said triumphantly, “once you press the icon like so…” she pressed the health option (of course) you can follow the prompts. “It’s easy Uncle Harry. Mum uses it, but Dad remains unconvinced.”

I stopped myself from saying “I’m with Dad.” I envied my brother-in-law in a way, there again imagine living with two boss cats. Oh no not me, I am considered a lonely old bachelor, with interests in cooking and gardening.  I certainly did not need a wife, just a family, and even then, on high days, holidays and Christmas Day.  

Speaking of days, this had been a long day. Dinner over, dishes in Dolly the dishwasher, I decided that an early night with a little music and an Agatha Christie novel was tempting. I chose said novel; Murder On The Orient Express., and prepared for bed. “Blast,” I thought “the blanky phone needs a recharge,” I dutifully inserted the charger, I could swear I heard a voice say “Thanks Doc.” I blamed the scotch, though I had not imbibed too freely, or so I thought. The sounds of Gilbert and Sullivan's Iolanthe’ soothed me, as I travelled with the passengers in the Orient Express.  Both the music and my need to read were over by ten-thirty. There in the warmth of the covers, I settled down, dreaming of one of my favourite patients. Had I really retired?

Come morning, I unplugged the charger. Again, I could hear a voice coming from my mobile

“Morning Dr Harry.”

“Senility approaches Harold.” I thought, oh dear it must be bad I hated being called Harold.

I switched the kettle on, shoved two slices of bread in the toaster and once the water had boiled made a cup of coffee. There was nothing unusual in this; it was my habit to have a coffee first thing, and vary the breakfast from a number of delights; porridge, plain toast, cereal, yoghurt and fruit or if I were hungry, poached eggs with toast.

Four sips into my coffee I heard:

“Careful of the coffee intake Doc it might raise your blood pressure. Take a walk and for preference choose tea instead.”

Sounding like a slightly inebriated, older gent I yelled “Go away and be quick, be quick, I say.”

The last thing I wanted to hear was my own advice to patients coming from the blanky phone. I was now under no doubt as to why they took my advice reluctantly or totally ignored it. Psychologically I need my morning coffee so “Be off with you Mr Health App.” 

I picked up my phone and walked down the street to get the newspaper and milk. No sooner had I entered the kitchen than the voice was talking again,

“Congratulations Dr Harry you have walked 2275 steps had 24 minutes of exercise equalling 1.68 kilometres and have burned 578 calories.”

“Where’s the blanky scotch I’m going mad,” I thought

Just then my mobile rang.

“Harry speaking.”

“Hi big brother, how are you?” Cath sounded bright or maybe she had heard me going nutty from two suburbs away

“Fine,” I answered gruffly

“I believe Susan added a couple of Apps to your phone at the weekend?” Cath was laughing “you’re up to date Harry, better than Reg.”

Does your app talk to you?” I asked

“Eh? No, I just click into it and it advises me.” Cath sounded puzzled “ That sounds odd! Susan is here, just a sec…Susan??”

I heard her hurried steps

“Your Uncle is unhappy with the app!” I could hear the rustle of the phone hand over

“What’s wrong Uncle Harry?”

“My app talks to me”

“What do you mean?”

“Just what I say it talks to me.”

“You’re kidding me!”

“Darling I kid you not; baa! Does your bloody app talk to you ?”

“No. Have you tried using settings to alter this?”

“Yes,”

“What language is it using?”

“Swahili, what do you think? I am fully conversant in medic speak and English; it is doing my head in.”

“I will come over.”

“Thrills!”

“How old is the phone.”

“About two months old.”

Oh yeah, it’s a …. isn’t it?” Susan said then there was a sharp intake of breath “Uncle Harry.”

“Yes?”

“That phone is not compatible with that app.”

“How so?”

“I can’t explain; but if you turn on the TV to channel 24, the news is on right now.”

I switched the TV on Sure enough, there was a phone just like mine. All users were to return  the model to the nearest techno provider as soon as possible or…”

Meanwhile, that’ voice screeched

“Harry, I am so hot.   I’m dying Dr Harry. Oh, Doc please I’m dying. DYING, dying” the voice was in slow motion, then went silent. Suddenly with a sizzle, the phone exploded with a bang.

I awoke to the sound of knocking at my door. A nurse entered the room complete with a syringe intending to well you know, something to control nausea.

“Someone’s been having a nice sleep,” she said as she punctured me in the cushion.

“Here’s your phone Harry, you might want to call your sister and tell her it’s time to go home.”

So, it was all a dream, and my phone looked normal but in need of an upgrade

“What’s App Doc?”  No play on Bugs Bunny’s words at all! Well, maybe a little!

THE END