Followed up my 'post GP visit' today via a trip to the local community hospital.  This was the centre I attended for several months last year with a leg wound.  It felt like leaving a job or school when they finally discharged me.  I'd gotten used to the care I received there, and then when all was healed it was over in a flash.  Without so much as a goodbye card or leaving party a la dull office job.  I'll have not a bad word said against the NHS.  This community hospital (Withington/West Didsbury) is a modern, clean affair with such a very fast turnaround, I barely waited more than 15 mins at it's most busy.  

Of course, the Nurses tapped into my mothering instinct radar and I guess that's why I enjoyed the process rather than endured it during last summer.  Towards the end I'd made a few regular  acquaintances so I was ever so slightly cut up (no pun intended) when they call time.

I was hoping I could pop in and say hi today, but I was 'seconded' to a different section of the hospital (the blood taking room).

Still, another set of extraordinarily jovial and friendly nurses awaited my right arm and duly slotted in a micro fine needle until blood sprang forth into the mini receptacle.  Precision injecting left me wondering what all the mainly irrational fuss is over when it comes to needles.  I guess a botched job would change my mind, but I hardly felt a thing...and it was over in seconds.  If my blood results come back as good then I might consider donating blood (I'll be a fine purveyor of blood) – for the very minor jab you get on your arm, and perhaps slight light headedness later, it's a pretty helpful act to do.

I get the results back next week, but I'm already missing the place.  

Perhaps next time I have to make a visit here, I can combine it with a wander around the restaurants in West Didsbury (there's seem to be one very few yards).  But yet again, it's confirmed my faith in this great NHS we have in this country.