I had to prepare some drugs for the Digestive Disorders Ward at the Royal Sussex County Hospital this afternoon. It's surprising they have entire wards dedicated to biscuit illnesses, but apparently they do. I expect they use custard cream instead of Savlon, and all the patients sit in wagon-wheelchairs.

But the more pressing news of the day comes courtesy of the NHS All Staff Info-Mail...


There's obviously a tube strike on that week.

That's possibly the finest joke I've ever written. It's just a shame you need a dictionary to get it.

Anyhoo, it's been an uninspiring couple of days. It's surprising how little there is to say when you work 8:30am to 6pm, and spend the evenings washing up, shopping and trying to cook something which won't go straight to your thighs, before collapsing into bed at nine. But on the bright side, I ordered Lisa's birthday present at the weekend, and it came yesterday.

Obviously I was out at work, and they wouldn't leave it, but the good news is they came back today.

Which was obviously no better. I did try to contact them to request that they deliver it in my lunch hour, but apparently they don't do things like that. They prefer to turn up unannounced when I'm out, and put a card through my letterbox. Anyway, having tried (and failed) twice to hand over Lisa's gift, they've now given me 48 hours to collect it in person from their depot. Which closes at 6pm. And is situated at Gatwick Airport. That's the convenience of internet shopping for you.