14 January 2017 (Saturday) - A Day At Work

I had another restless night; or to be more precise "er indoors TM" and the puppy had another restless night and I had the knock-on effects. I got up ten minutes before the alarm was due to go off and came downstairs to realise I'd not cleared away the wreckage of last night's dinner. I heaved it all into the dishwasher then did my morning's ablutions. As I messed about in the bathroom I noticed the sink's plughole was draining better than it had been. Thank heavens for life's small mercies - the dangerous chemicals and boiling water I'd poured down in during the week had paid off. One never realises just how wonderful a drain is until it is blocked.

Over brekkie I watched a very old episode of "Dad's Army"; so old it had been made in black and white. Mind you it was still entertaining enough. Being a very early episode the characters were still being established and Corporal Jones *wasn't* continually bellowing about their not liking it up 'em.
That improved the show beyond all recognition.

I spent a few minutes scraping the ice off of my car; I'd been dreading the drive to work today (in the ice left over from the recent snow) but the only ice was on the cars from the overnight frost. Pretty much all of the ice on the roads (from the snow) had gone.
I went to work via Old Wives' Lees; a couple of weeks ago a group of half a dozen of us had failed to find a particularly fiendish geocache there. Armed with a rather substantial hint I went back this morning and despite it being minus three degrees and an hour before sunrise I soon had the thing in my hand. I must admit I don't like hunting Tupperware in the dark, but farting about with a torch was the only option for today.

I then went on to a rather empty Morrisons for some supplies. As I drove the pundits on the radio were interviewing a sheep farmer who lived in the Brecon Beacons National Park. Whereas all the other farmers were whinging about tourists getting in the way of their sheep, this chap was making a small fortune by renting out his barns as holiday homes for the same tourists. I got the impression all the other farmers hated him.
There was also a lot of talk about the perceived pressures on the NHS; the government is pushing GP surgeries to stay open longer to take the pressure off of hospitals. This is a good idea in theory; in practice it will just take the workload from one overworked bunch and drop it on another. No one seems to have given any thought as to how the GPs will staff these extra hours. There isn't a pool of qualified GPs waiting to be employed. And didn't the country just vote against importing any more workers?
Do we want the existing GPs to work longer hours? Do we want to be seen by a GP who has already done more than a fair day's work? Or should we just strip doctors out of the hospitals.
The whole thing hasn't been thought out, has it?

I got to work and had a rather busy time of it. I sometimes describe my daily round as hours of deadly dull interspersed with moments of sheer panic, and that was certainly the case today. There are certain cases you only see once every few years; I had four of those today, and was glad when the night shift chap arrived.

I’ve got to work again tomorrow…

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