I often watch 24 hours in A&E, little did I know that I would end up in my own local A&E this evening.
This morning as I was going to get the oil out of the boot to top up the car I slipped off the kerb and went over on my right ankle. With a crunch and a few curse words spoken I managed to hobble back indoors.
As Mr Boo left for work I settled myself on the sofa with pain killers and Roo promising daddy to be my nurse for the day. With shooting pains in my ankle and travelling up my leg I rang the 111 service (our out of hours service). The gentlemen I spoke to advised me to attend A&E.
Unfortunately with no childcare and way to get to A&E I have had to wait for Mr Boo to finish work. So here I find myself sitting in A&E on a Saturday night. I look around to see a mixture of frail old people who have possibly fallen at home, children who are unwell being cuddled by their parents who in turn have a nervous worried look upon their faces no doubt imaging the worst.
Then there are the impatient people who look up every time a name is called, muttering about how many people have been seen to before them. With feet tapping and scowls upon their faces do they think that by playing up they will be seen any early?
I have worked for the NHS since I was 18 years old and maybe that makes me more patient when it comes to waiting for appointments or like this evening waiting to be seen by a nurse/doctor. I can see their frustrations of having to wait but I am grateful that when it is my turn I will receive the treatment I need free of charge.