Here, in the land of long white cloud,leather rugby balls,Tui calls, woolly sheep and outsourced reason! I walked into a Medical Care Centre in an obscure corner of this land to see a doctor! I was confronted by a troupe of up and coming actors. A tall lady with a huge snout appeared to have all the clout, in fact she looked the spit image of Bad Jelly the Witch, the other crones were from a Shakespeare’s play. First, they lost my medical documents; the doctor never read them, mixed me up with someone else; gave me an ECG and a date of birth 33 years in advance! Charged me $92.00 and I landed back on the street with a wooden leg, glass eye with a black patch, a metal crutch and a talking parrot on my left shoulder! I held an unexplained graph of some gone -wrong twitterings in my chest and a clutch of medication prescriptions with an unusual recommendation for an audition in the stage play ‘Treasure Island’. The man they mixed me up with was an old work associate by name Jimmy Gladrags..I think. He also landed in the street dressed like a first class tramp, with a huge hump on his back.. He also had a paper in his hand recommending him for an audition in the stage show ‘Hunch Back of Notre Dame’! The thing is, never offer your body for examination to a Doctor by the name of Mr Barter who never bothered his hindquarters just what the hell was wrong with you, but strangely enough, knew exactly what medicines you needed. The strangest of all, was to find yourself in the street totally transformed into a character from a a book!Not knowing where you were,completely disorientated along with this old work associate! And two cops with the question.’Where were you pair on April 15 1916?’……Survivors thats what officer.