Finally made it to register for the doctor at my current address. The documents they require (identification and two proofs of address dated in the last 3 months) in tow, I was optimistic. It was a good thing that I am feeling mildly optimistic or this would turn into another rant, because – as always – things didn’t go entirely smoothly. My national ID card was only accepted after I told the girl that it specifically says they accept that as ID. Also, apparently the two proofs of address (in my case, bank statements) would have to be “from two different banks” (What? Foreign students aren’t even allowed to open multiple bank accounts) or I would need a note from the Home Office. I told them that I don’t need a letter from the Home Office, being an European national. She came back after a quick chat with her colleague and said “OK, we can do this for you this time, as you would need to come back and you thought you were prepared”. So, now she was doing the favour for me!
No matter, at least I’m registered. Now to get my new patient registration done. Kind of makes me long for the simplicity of doctor registrations back home. Or, dare I say it, private healthcare. None of that faffy crap and carting forms back and forth.
As I got home, they called from my bank, asking if I “had a few minutes”. I knew what they were doing – peddling their post-study account. I had already been invited for a chat with a clerk about it before. They’re really careful to tell you of the wonderful rewards it includes (an interest rate) but neglect to mention until the very end that it actually costs you money. I can kind of understand paying for specific services (credit cards, etc) but the thought of £10 a month disappearing from my account for the sheer privilege of them holding my fledgling paycheck isn’t really that attractive to me. They used something along the lines of “it’s like a chocolate bar a day, so not very expensive at all” to which I wish I’d retorted “or you could not have the chocolate bar and save the money”. I remember years ago at a job this guy representing a credit card with horrid terms telling us to think of the minimum monthly repayment we should encourage the customers to sign up to the card with as being “like a pack of cigarettes a week”. What great and healthy comparisons!
I told the woman on the phone that yes, I am still a student (technically anyway) and that I would pop into the branch as soon as I could (which means when I have that mythical paycheck coming in every month I guess). Then it’ll be time for some serious bank shopping.