In London the usual clinics in the big city have turned cold, technological, and fast.
They stopped taking rectal temperatures a long time ago, and everything is done with a quick click on the forehead, with almost no human touch. But my experiences on the road showed me that other places still exist.
A while ago, I happened to visit two small, remote settlements. In the first clinic, I was received by an older female doctor with an inner calmness and an understanding look. She looked at me gently and asked in a soft, professional voice if I would be willing to undergo a rectal temperature check, as it is the most precise way to get an accurate reading. Her touch was gentle, precise, and completely free of embarrassment, and the feeling of such dedicated, thorough care evoked a particularly warm and pleasant sensation in me. Of course, I agreed immediately.
In the second clinic, in one of the quiet villages, I met a nurse whose procedure was part of a routine and completely standard protocol. Before I even went in to see the doctor, she measured both oral and rectal temperatures as part of the unyielding routine of the place. The intimate, quiet atmosphere of the small clinic, combined with that gentle physical attention, turned a simple medical moment into something much deeper and more thrilling.
Since those days, I have found myself returning to visit those small clinics several times, just to re-experience that unique feeling and intimate encounter