Just a quickie, because I’m STILL ILL, and that’s putting a serious dent in my productivity (and my intended blogging schedule!) –

I went to the doctor today. I had to book an appointment some fifteen days in advance, but it wasn’t an emergency, so, y’know, whatever. Being me, I arrived about 10 minutes early for my 3:45pm appointment (because you never know when the train will break down, or London will catch on fire, or your legs will fall off, or some other bizarre occurance will manage to make a simple twenty minute journey take two hours) only to find the place utterly deserted. No patients, anywhere. All the shutters were drawn up at reception.

I’d have assumed “zombie outbreak”, but then I realised there was actually a receptionist sitting at the desk behind the shutter. At my approach, she looked up and fixed me with a withering stare, and barked “We don’t open until 4pm.”

Slightly flummoxed, I pointed out that I’d made an appointment for quarter to 4. She sighed, tilted her head slightly in the direction of the waiting room, and begrudgingly told me I’d better go and wait outside the office, then.

The waiting room was plastered with posters informing patients that if they want to see a doctor, they need to check in at reception first, because “OTHERWISE THE DOCTOR WON’T KNOW YOU’RE THERE.” Which is good logic, but it’d be nice if the receptionist you need to check in with was on duty before the doctor. Or am I being unreasonable?



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