Trust me I’m a doctor…

Trust me, I’m a doctor… or a nurse or an anaesthetist or a radiologist or just a bloke painting the corridor wearing a white coat. Easy mistake to make. Happened to a mate of mine. The people who collared him were overwhelmingly grateful that he’d saved their son’s life. He hadn’t the heart to tell them he was only there to give the walls another layer of ghastly green.

But hospitals and their long-suffering, truly dedicated, kind hearted, plastic glove stretching, tonsil tickling, into ear peering, chest listening, just bend overing, won’t hurt a bittering, ooh that looks nastying, trust me I’m a doctoring and please… just relax, lovely lovely staff – are on my mind for two reasons.

I know that a sainted reader of this very blog will be working in one over Christmas. And also – the Loose Bloggers Consortium threatened to shove me off my trolley if I didn’t write something about hospitals. (Ha! Too late – I’ve been off my trolley for years now.)

So in honour of those caring souls sharing their Hypocratic benevolence on hospital wards at this time of year, here’s a guide to the abbreviations they use. (Just so the rest of us can be quicker on the uptake and not force them to waste time explaining themselves.) Those of a sensitive disposition may scroll straight to the bottom for the less offensive video.

• The classic

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Second Act Drama

Ivor Jefferson, drama teacher Wandsworth Prison.

I went out looking for drama, and watched a woman’s life hang in the balance just inches from my face.

If you must wear a uniform, make it a nurse’s outfit

Not all uniforms are bad news. (Naturally I could have chosen a different sort of nurse outfit picture for here. But as a sign of how mature/boring I've become, I didn't.)

The advance of civilisation and the cultivation of the collective mind would be improved if it were this book rather than the Bible that were placed in the bedside cabinets of hotels throughout the world…