Diary of a UK A&E visit Part 2

Apropos my recent and ongoing stomach ulceration, the NHS have really otherwise been on top of it. Fair play to them.

Apart from the 19-hour marathon between entering the hospital to shutting my front door, the service in between, despite the incredibly lengthy time it took, was exemplary. What I cannot understand is, where there is an obvious lack of action overnight, they don't "semi" discharge you at 11pm with the instruction to come back in the following morning at 9am or otherwise THEN be discharged. Instead, you end up sitting on a hard metal chair overnight, without sleep, a shower, or meals, until the hospital medical staff return for the following morning shift, which although starting at 8am does mean you are unlikely to be seen until at least mid-to-late morning.

If you do self-discharge (one patient I was with did that) during the wait, you have to return and start the entire process again upon your return. This includes queuing for, and retaking, triage, then seeing the on-call general GP, then repeat blood tests (should you have originally needed them), then going back in the queue once again to see the specific hospital expert medic for your condition.

However, I have this morning received a health questionnaire which, naturally enough, started off with the now standard six tiresome questions related to gender. Organisations now seem incapable of starting with two simple 1) male/female and 2) heterosexual/other tick boxes and then offer to leave it at that for people of uncomplicated gender and orientation.

Why not offer the secondary option to go into all the binary hoo-haa on a second screen, which, with full due deference and sympathy to those it may otherwise affect, I don't wish to sound harsh, but that I really have nil interest in.

This question in the image, however, did make me titter. Tempted though I was to put in "37" or "don't know" I just carried on reward less.

"Hey Ed, how many people live in your flat?"
"Sorry NHS, I have absolutely no idea"