My Mum asked me yesterday whether I have to drive through the snow to any clinics today. I replied that no, I’ll be safe and warm in the office all day, eating mince pies and working out how I can get a photo of Amelie dressed as an elf into the departmental newsletter. I then turned to Lisa and said “Unless, of course, one of my colleagues phones in sick and I have to go to Lewes or something!”. At which point we both laughed.

That’s what you call ‘tempting fate’. I had a phone call from work at 8:30am this morning. You can guess what they said.

So I’m typing this at Lewes Hospital, where I’m holed up for the day with no packed lunch and a forecast of snow. But am I sorry to be here? Yes. No. Because if I’d spent the day in a warm office, surrounded by festive nibbles, I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to screen an inmate from the local prison. After all, it’s not every day you get the chance to photograph someone in handcuffs. Well, not with the kind of sex life I have.

The irony is that despite being chained up and escorted by not one, but two prison officers, he was actually my nicest patient of the day. I’d grant him parole immediately. He had a very honest face. Although I did check to see if I still had my wallet when he left.

To add to the slightly surreal atmosphere, the consulting room just along the corridor from mine was occupied this morning by the consultant urologist I’ve been seeing in Brighton for my prostatitis. We kept bumping into each other when we went to call our next patients, which was slightly awkward. It’s not easy making eye contact with a man who can picture you naked. I didn’t know whether to ignore him, chat about the weather, or strip off and demand to know why I’m still getting pain.

Anyhoo, it’s currently 2pm, the weather’s turning, and so are my patients. Back home, that is. The waiting room’s as empty as the box of mince pies I bought on Saturday. But the good news is I’ve got something to play with. I skated into town at lunchtime and bought a giant moose rug for Amelie from the nearest charity shop. Not only does it have antlers, hooves and a tail, but it’s machine washable and you can tumble dry it on low. It looks like a cross between Rudolph and roadkill. She’ll love it.