Having put on FB that I'm blogging in the surgery, I feel I ought to write about what I see.
There is a children's corner, refreshingly free of those two things doctors surgeries always have; those twisted wire affairs with coloured beads probably used with earnest intent to hone
motor skills or some other joy-sapping reason. And children.
There is a majoresque type with crutches, a girl with impossibly blonde hair and orange skin and a toothless crone.
The reading matter which is usually banal, dog-eared and generic is, in fact, surprisingly challenging;
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I experienced a first (and possibly once) in a lifetime experience when I arrived. A helpful doctors receptionist. She didn't quite smile but she didn't make me feel that if I'd mentioned I had a terminal illness (I don't) she would have rolled her eyes and muttered 'not another of these time-wasters'
The waiting room, that would comfortably sit about 20 people has no less than 18 lights! Half moon wall lights, sunken spots and several foot long florries.
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Surely if they were going to provide an average of two lights per person an a steady day, they should have made them angle-poised and gone the rest of the way with individual booths and desks.
Well I'm still here and the drama is slowing so I'll do some of my homework.