In an excellent mood today, being the first day when the lovely Gabrielle does my list instead of Dan The Fat gasman, who has been temporarily suspended after ordering six million quids worth of booze through the NHS for his own party. Still, doubled as a leaving do I guess.
Another reason for joy is that the theatre directorate, which usually excels itself by buying the cheapest, crappiest kit they can possibly lay their hands on, has actually come up with something good. It’s called a Preop Glove. It’s a sticky glove you wear to pick up the hairs after you’ve shaved a patient before surgery. Works really well, too. One should never underestimate the positive effect of neat little tools like this.
Slight problem while I was shaving the first patient, as Gabrielle wafted in and I blew her a kiss, and got a face full of old man’s pubes. Arse!
Anyway the big news this morning is all about what a horrid bully Gordon Brown is. Allegedly he does things to his staff like calling them names and throwing phones at them, and they’ve contacted the anti-bullying hotline.
So I’m like: and? Call that bullying? I don’t know what kind of wimps they employ at Number 10, but they wouldn’t last five minutes in the NHS. Here, where we’re dealing with life and death, we have to keep our subordinates on their toes. Especially if they’re foreign or a woman, or they’ve got a squint or something. I made my last houseman do ward rounds in a Guantanomo-bay orange jumpsuit with a bag on her head. And we make the staff grade carry all the notes from clinic, and then trip him up, and make him pick them all up again. Hahaha!
Oh, look! Gabby’s brought some cake in! Mmmm victoria sponge, my favourite! ARSE!! forgot to take the glove off again!!
Anyway, these rumours have been circulating for a few weeks now, and I can’t help noticing that Gordon the Moron’s personal ratings have been going UP in that time, thus proving that the British public want to be led by some sort of fat one-eyed version of Flashman, and not some sort of touchy-feely nancy-boy. So if Dave wants to win the election, he’s going to have to start flushing Michael Gove’s head down the toilet pretty soon. I’m sure they did that sort of thing at that crappy secondary modern in Slough that he went to.
Just about to start the last case when Sir Charles Pimbley-Pombley pops his head round the door. Sir Charles is the chairman of our local clinical excellence award committee, so obviously I went straight over and shook him firmly by the hand…oh AAAAAARRRRRRRSE!!
Tags: Humour
