It’s November, so I guess I was due for my annual trip to the Royal London Hospital A&E.

Last November, I manged to fall down the stairs outside of London Bridge Station, sprained my ankle and had to negotiate the public transport system on crutches for about a month afterwards.

This November – today in fact – I was back at the Whitechapel Road clinic, due to continued pain from Saturday’s TV stand injury.

The Royal London Hospital A&E just seems too small for the number of visitors it gets.  There are only 12 seats in the wating room, and the consultation areas are separated by what can onl be described as shower curtains.  They’re even printed with droplets of water.

I must’ve arrived at the clinic at about 2.45pm today.  Checking in, going through the streaming process, getting an x-ray, seeing a nurse and a whole lot of waiting took me through to just after 5.00pm.  The medical staff were great though, and the good news is there’s no broken bones.

The less good news is, instead of heading up to Manchester again for work, I’m facing a weekend in a sling.  And that means typing with one hand, which makes blogging painfully (pun intended) slow, so I’m going to stop here.

Tash