(copied from a Facebook post)
I love the NHS, I really do. Twice this evening my attempt to produce an edible cheese and mushroom omelette was sabotaged by NHS phone calls. I just missed the first one (took too long taking two pans off the heat and turning the rings off), and the second came in just as the omelette was seconds away from perfection...
They've had another MDT meeting to consider the result of the second MRI of my left hip. I have a benign cyst in it, which I knew already after the report of the first MDT meeting about the first MRI. And they're referring it to orthopaedics, which I also knew already. "Any sign of an orthopaedics appointment?", I asked.
"Sorry sir, I don't know anything about that".
In other words, a fair amount of NHS time and effort expended for no obvious benefit at all.
The omelette, by the way, survived the delays surprisingly well.
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