I’ve had to make two visits to the Hospital in the last six months, both for different reasons.
The first visit was for the Eyes and was quite a long event. After that experience and upon hearing I needed to make an appointment for some tests, I thought it wise to purchase a good book.

I went onto Amazon, I didn’t so much look at the content of the books,
more the number of pages; anything over 600 would seem to be about right.
Never forget this, if you’re a bloke, the magazines in there are usually year old Celeb scandal types or Supermarket jobs.
You may be lucky and get a November 1998 edition of Hi-Fi magazine or a Health magazine where you can spend an hour diagnosing yourself down to having about 20 various illnesses and wonder if you’ll make it back home or not.

As it happened, the second time round, I went to two departments, Blood Tests and X-Ray. To my utter amazement it took less than an hour to do both. Either Canterbury is an extremely healthy area or the rest of the general public knew better?

There are many observations to make though whilst awaiting your turn.

Are those background people you see walking up and down the corridors like Film Extra’s and employed to give that ‘professional touch’?
The only difference I can see is that Film Extras are seen wandering off screen and return a few minutes later in a different jacket, hat or wig.
The Hospital version just seems to change the order in which the files are stacked under their arms.
In both films and the real thing, they never seem to rush. I’d have thought there’d be a few urgent cases which deemed a file getting from Ward4635A to Ward 73542v/h quickly.
Never mind, it’s obviously of great need and one shouldn’t assume wrong things.

If you’re over about 50 and your turn comes up, we should always prepare ourselves for the Assistant who, because of the age, presumes we’re deaf and have forgotten our left from the right; “Alright Dear, it’s the third door on the left” with suitable hand and arm gestures. This is sometimes accompanied with a helping hand under the arm.

Problem is, at any age, that every bloomin door looks the same and the size of the number plate is seemingly devised as a cheap form of eye test before you even start.

I once made the mistake of being told a room to go into, strip down to my undies and go through the other door only to de-robe then walk back through the same door and give the other waiting patients the shock of their life! That was in Germany, so at least it confirmed what some other nations think about us!

You have whatever you’re having done and are bemused by the odd joker Doctor who replies to your “See you again” with “Maybe” and return to the fresh air of outside. that’s after you’ve gone through the odours of the Hospital Laundry and Kitchens of course.

But I have a sincere sympathy for Hospitals. They do their best with the resources and ‘orders’ they have. There are many very genuine people there who will ‘go the extra mile’ for you and see you on your way with refreshed trust in the human race.

It doesn’t stop you from missing a few heartbeats every time the phone rings for the next three days though!!


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