Astute readers will have noticed that the NHS in general and GP land in particlar are run on a steady diet of caffeine laden drinks and chocolate coated biscuits. Show me a medic, and I will show you a dunker. We can't help it. There is some mystical attraction between chocolate laden oatmealy things and steamy cups of coffee akin to the pulling power of a Black Hole. It even works when the chocolate is squirreled away in fondant form between slabs of biccie a la Bourbon Creams.
So here I sit, second day back after a two week sojourn. Kids not yet in school so Lady J bravely at home holding the fort. Dr J in the office early to sift through the backlog of letters, reports, weird messages and requests for Methadone scripts from the drug team boys and girls. Being manly and having to "get in early" I eschew breakfast, knowing full well that there are a desk top coffee maker and a trusty biccie tin awaiting me on arrival, and so it is.
The milk is even at the surgery door when I pull up ready for the fray. Without further ado the computer is switched to on. (Yesterday thare was a better than evens chance that it would then go "phut"- not so today. Result!) So off to the galley-- sorry, kitchen-- for the trusty mug. In with a splash of milk, just enough for the trademark Dr J "Grey" coffee, too dark to be brown but not quite the inky blackness of the truly addicted... thence to the tin for a biccie or twain. Oh, ok, three if you must know, but who's counting?
I pop down the biccies on the desk and pour the now steaming java into the waiting mug. The incomparable aroma snakes out and works its caffeiny magic. Suddenly all's right with the world, which, after yesterday, is something of a triumph. Then it happens. The mystical attraction begins, and before I know it half a mug of java is swirling out of the upturned mug and engulfing the biccie pile. I had obviously left them too close in my haste to prepare my libation. And worse, the slick also engulfs the pile of DWP* report requests that have accumulated in my absence, so now all the Benefits Docs will have their suspicions that I am not safe to be let out unsupervised confirmed.
And as a method of dunking it sucks too. The edges get a bit soggy but the middly bit stays too crunchy. Worse still you dare not re-dunk them for fear of the soggy edges dehiscing completely to sludge up the bottom of the mug. So looks like today is all set to be a re-run of yesterday after all. Bum.
*I refer of course to the Orwell inspired rebranded "Department of Work and Pensions"