As it turns out, there wasn't a half-price insulin sale at Boots yesterday. Our office has been inundated with telephone calls today from Crawley residents who didn't get their appointment letters for yesterday's clinic until first thing this morning. We sent them all out a month ago, so I think Royal Mail must have been using the sack as a beanbag in the sorting office staff room. I'd write them a letter of complaint, but it probably wouldn't get there.

As for today, I had a very interesting chat this morning with a patient who had the upside-down glasses of a snooker player. It turns out she's a professional artist, and had the glasses specially made for her thirty years ago so that she could look up from the canvas and see her subject without lifting her head. She now restores priceless old paintings for a living. I might see what she can do with some of Lisa's drawings. They could do with a bit of work.

Anyhoo, the weekend's here, so Lisa, Amelie and I are off to St Leonards for a bit of rest and relaxation. Other people have live-in nannies; we just move in with the babysitters.