Headed off to A&E at Bolton with a stomach ulcer (to be confirmed, although medical staff suspected same from the "tarry" state of my presented human remains, delicately gift-wrapped in a ZipLok bag) at 7.45 Monday, c/o phone call with emergency doctor telling me to go immediately to hospital, not to pass "Go" and not to collect £200. Had bloods taken at 22:45. Enjoyed night sitting and dozing on wonderful, haemorrhoid-inducing metal chair in A&E with some 45 other overly-patient patients. Gentleman arrived writhing in pain from a kidney stone at 12.30am and was allowed to comfortably writhe on the floor for 40 min before someone was free from clearing up from the gang warfare that people with nice clean knife wounds and their police "observers" were causing. Gentleman with obvious issues wandering around the ward at 2.45am in a silver preservation blanket doing his impression of Father Jack from "Father Ted" ("Drink, drink, feck, ...
On my soapbox again!