Bev Stokes day surgery unit is a bright, modern place marred only by the tv in the corner of the waiting room permanently tuned to Trisha. I've just had my details checked by the reception nurse and been tagged with a plastic id bracelet, and the anaethetist has explained the procedure to me again. I'm second on the list this morning, which means I'm going to be sat here till 10 o'clock with only the Reader's Digest for company. I've got my palm though, so a game of Space Trader looks to be my best option for whiling away the next couple of hours.
Tuesday, July 20, 2004
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