Welcome dear friend to my personal part. Firstly I must be modest. Rather than gush about how wonderful I am and supremely talented, plus of course being a genius as well as six foot tall with a build that would have any bodice ripping heroine swoon. Errr, perhaps not quite… well almost. That actually is me in the photo I’m the one behind the very handsome and talented furry familiar and unfortunately all too frequent editor of my work, Myyrtle don’t’ tread on the KEYBOARD!!! No! Arrgh did it save?.
Despite what you may think of my name the alchemical Laws of Similars is not at work. I am indeed the real bona fide legally recognized (for over forty years) Gregory House. Nor do I look like Hugh Laurie, unless you stretched me on a rack as for that minor Vicodin addiction sorry not really me. Though I must admit the good doctor and I share more than just a name, we both have a dark satirical sense of humour and we studied medicine. However before you rush to the email address and beg my assistance with a diagnosis, I must admit my area of expertise is a little older than his.
Actually a lot older
Rather the dubious world of coldly impersonal mechanics that is contemporary medicine I prefer the richer, diverse earthy world of Tudor medicine! Yee haw bring on the leeches, a bit of bleeding to balance the humours, certainly! Perhaps good sir your melancholy is brought on by an excess of black bile, just bend over for this emetic, I assure you its perfect, made from the finest powdered unicorn horn and dragon’s tears. Laudable pus in the wound? No problems, it’s a promising sign, really trust me I’m a physician. Hmm, you did say you were a member of his Majesty’s Privy Chamber didn’t you? A very wealthy position that from what I’ve heard. Well excellent, excellent, this course of purgatives is maybe a trifle expensive with the cinnamon bark, ginger and pepper corns but so worth the results! As for amputation no worries, I made all the tools myself, I’ve even cleaned them with aqua fortis since the last operation on that gangrenous leg of Benson the nightsoil carter. What, how it did go? Very successfully, it was such a neat piece of work, hardly needed the surgeon’s assistants to hold him down at all after the first minute. What was that you say, he’s passed on? That’s a slander good sir, Benson lasted a fortnight before succumbing to a mild fever! As you know good sir the good lord can call us at any time it was so with poor Benson. Now if he’d followed my prescription no doubt Death would have been fended off…Ahh about my fee…?
Just remember this is the practice of ‘modern medicine’ until a hundred and fifty years ago.
Anyway that’s my piece of personal internet fiction, hope you like it.
You can visit my blog where I wax lyrically, about history, my novels about the Tudors (The Red Ned Mysteries), the foibles of modern society and the mysteries of the discovery of Terra Australis.
Coming soon to Kindle and Smashwords are the following novels;
The Liberties of London
The Cardinal’s Angels
The Queen’s Oranges
Blog: http://prognosticationsandpouting.blogspot.com/
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