Medicine bawl

I had to go to the doctors' today, and it was the first proper visit I'd made to my new local surgery since moving to London.

It might be unfashionable to say so these days, but I have to confess to experiencing a surge of reassurance every time I step inside a surgery, confirm my arrival with the receptionist and take my seat in the waiting room. It's almost like I suddenly think I'm halfway towards feeling better already.

Being held within the benevolent arms of a giant organisation is comforting to me. Again, it's unfashionable to say as much, but I like the idea of having the state waiting just around the corner to protect me from cradle to grave.

I like the notion of a government-run web of organisations watching over me from youth to old age. Greatest of them all is the NHS, and I can't help but feel a surge of appreciation each time I step onto one of its thousands of premises.

Which is what happened today. My new surgery is only five minutes from where I live. It's clean, spacious, friendly, expertly run and efficient. In short, it's fantastic. And I left with a piece of paper in my hand which will, of course, make my life and my health 100% in no time at all.

Well, you've got to have a bit of hope in somebody.