Last weekend was warm and sunny; it was short sleeve weather. This weekend, it was cold and raining as I took my daughter to the flu clinic to prepare for winter.
When I arrived, the queue was out of the door. I was nervous. Years of news on the subject have conditioned even me to think that large numbers of people using the NHS at any one time means long, frustrating waits, at best. I joined the back of the line at around 11.
The waiting room was teeming with people. Mostly pensioners, people born around the same time as the NHS. There were several disabled people, and of course a few small children. In short, the most vulnerable, and to make a crude generalisation based on addresses they gave at reception, the least able to pay, should it come to that.
Queueing out the door, and a waiting room bulging at the sides. How long would I be kept waiting? As it turns out, not long.
A well drilled team of nurses and GPS called patients through at a rate of about one every 20-30 seconds. I checked in at 11.06 and was out again by 11.15. My daughter was fine with the nasal spray, and when we got home got a treat for her troubles.
Us? We have one less thing to worry about this winter, and will sleep all the more soundly because of it.
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