"Whip your tit off". Now if that's not a catchphrase in the making, I don't know what is. Though it's not generally the kind of language I expect to hear at 8pm on the BBC. Well, not unless Madonna's doing Live8. But so began 'The Private Life of Harley Street', a new fly-on-the-wall documentary series which opened on BBC2 tonight with the words "Tonight on Harley Street, a woman's nipple is rebuilt, a top dentist tackles a bad case of dogbreath [is that a genuine medical term?] and Charles Akle gets to grips with a VIP's dodgy gall bladder". Oh yes, it promised much. And if there's one thing I approve of, it's the use of the word 'nipple' seven words into a new series.
Tonight's programme followed three doctors and their patients, led by star of the show Charles Akle, whose fondness for colourful bow-ties tells you just about all you need to know about him. The BBC listings describe him as 'flamboyant'. I could think of other words.
Charles was set for a busy day at The London Clinic, where a 32 year old woman had been coughing up blood. He duly calmed her down with "about a gin & tonic's worth" of prescription sedatives, before helping her to swallow an endoscope by offering the advice "just think macaroni, yum, yum, yum, yum, yum". The sound of the woman gagging and choking suggested that maybe she didn't like pasta.
We were told on tonight's show that "private medicine was once a luxury available only to the priveleged few", but as the voice-over was keen to point out, that's no longer the case, and these days people from all walks of life go private. Unfortunately the programme-makers attempted to prove this fact by showing us Sarah, a woman with a plummy voice, who announced that she first discovered she had a lump in her breast whilst "leaning against the Aga, talking to a horsey friend". Well we've all been there, haven't we. You can't move in my kitchen for showjumpers in front of the range.
Sadly it transpired that Sarah had breast cancer, but fortunately Professor Kefah Mokbel quickly leapt into action and told her "we're gonna whip your tit off", prompting Sarah to respond "that's no problem to me, can I have a new one?". Honestly, if you put these lines into a sitcom script, people would tell you to stop being ridiculous and start being true to life.
But anyway, over the road at the Fresh Breath Clinic, halitosis expert Philip Stemmer was busy announcing that "there have been many cases of people committing suicide because of bad breath". There speaks a man trying to build his part. But fortunately for Phil, along came would-be suicide Amos, a 28 year old karaoke host from Walthamstow, "whose bad breath is ruining both his work and his private life". I'm sorry, but if your name's Amos, you're a karaoke host, and you're from Walthamstow, having bad breath really is the least of your problems.
But Phil carried out various tests anyway, and confirmed that Amos' breath truly was rank. Which is enough to push anyone over the edge. He was then advised to use mouthwash in future - that £175 consultancy fee proving well worth it.
Meanwhile, back at the London Clinic, our Charles was operating on the gall bladder of a rich African woman, whilst commenting that "Hannibal Lecter would love this" and telling us that he wears gloves so as not to leave fingerprints if anything goes wrong. I do love a doctor with a sense of humour. They're so much better than those who take their jobs seriously. After all, when it comes to life or death surgery, what you really need is a bit of a laugh.
Fortunately there was just time to return to the Princess Grace Hospital, where Sarah was undergoing treatment for cancer... and having a breast enlargement while she was at it. Cue some gruesome footage of surgery, and an interesting scene where a nurse arrived with a colour chart and asked her to select a shade for her new nipple.
The show closed with more evidence of the classless nature of today's Harley Street, where woman-of-the-people Sarah, spoke of the experience of cancer patients the world over, with these oh-so-familiar words: "I don't think about it any more. I think about when I can get on my dressage horse".