This is my first blog post written entirely on my iPhone and also my first post written mainly from the waiting room of a busy Accident & Emergency Department of an NHS hospital.
I’m here because my sore knee (have I mentioned that before?) has become very swollen and painful. We arrived at 9am and it’s 11.28 am as I type this. I’ve seen two nurse practitioners, had X-rays and bloods taken, and I’m now back waiting for results.
The waiting room in A&E is a fascinating place to spend time. As I look around now, there are people aged 7 to 80 plus. A number have very obvious injuries and quite dramatic appearances (facial injuries and bloodied clothing); others are in obvious pain and distress; and some (including me) seem fine until they get called into a treatment room and hobble off awkwardly.
There is a kind of resigned acceptance that we are grist to the mill of a system that operates at its own speed and according to rhythms and processes that are both mysterious and unknowable. For the most part, people are patient and understanding of the pressures that staff are working under. What is amazing is that at this time on a sunny Sunday there are upwards of 50 people in the waiting room, and probably at least that number again in various treatment rooms and diagnostic services around the Department.
This truly is the sharp end of the National Health Service. We are so incredibly lucky to have it. We may complain about waits; about the uncomfortable metal chairs; about being passed from practitioner to practitioner; but ultimately, we should be incredibly proud that we live in a country where world-class healthcare is available when we need it.
A bit of inconvenience is a fantastically small price to pay for that.
Clowns occupy a strange place in our psyche. The modern day jesters of the circus; staple of children’s birthday parties; or more sinister threats to our psychological and physical well-being.
But there is much more to clowning than face paint, colourful costumes, and comedy boots. There is a whole culture around clowning that is treated deadly seriously by those who study and teach the art. This piece from Granta describes the experiences of a researcher who spent two weeks in clown school in New York. It’s a long read but a fascinating one that I hope you’ll enjoy as much as I did.
Of National Blog Post Month (NaBloPoMo) that is! 30 days of blogging comes to an end today. I can’t believe how quickly the month has gone by. I hope that there’s been some posts during the course of the month that have amused, interested or educated you; and that if one or two have irritated or bored you, then I hope you’ll forgive me.
This is only the second time that I’ve successfully completed NaBloPoMo. It’s been a struggle at times. There’s been a lot going on in work and personally. But paradoxically – and entirely in keeping with the reason for starting doing this in the first place – blogging really has been cheaper than therapy!
I’ve surprised myself at the amount of novel content I’ve been able to generate this time; and I’ve only had to ‘steal’ stuff on a couple of occasions during the month. It’s been good to get back into the habit of researching and writing again, and I hope and intend to keep up the habit (although probably not EVERY day), as we move into December.
Thanks for reading (whether occasionally or – and you deserve a medal if this is you – daily). Thanks too for the comments and ‘likes’ that serve as a helpful incentive to keep on posting. I do this mainly for myself, but it’s nice occasionally to find that somebody else has found a post interesting or useful.
Until the next time – thank you and au revoir!
I’m up against it a bit time-wise today, but thankfully the Guardian has come to my rescue with a humdinger of a logic problem that has all sorts of philosophical implications.
The link to the problem is here.
I’d love to know what approach you’d take and why, so please don’t be shy – leave your comments below!