My appointment was scheduled for 15:50.
Please note that I did not call them and request a 15:50 slot. That's not how the NHS works. They send you a letter telling you where and when to report, include a snippy little paragraph about kindly being punctual. If you can't make the slot they allocate you, they push you to the back of the queue and send you another letter of the same sort instructing you where to go and when to go there on some date about 3 months after the first one.
Having kindly been punctual, I was not best pleased to still be waiting at the time this picture was taken, especially not since the office staff had just shut up shop and left and I was all alone in the waiting room, having originally arrived to find it heaving with people.
I was finally called at 17:45, when I was met by an officious, self-important little man who had the nerve to tell me that sometimes we were dealt these life-changing events, but that this was not one of them. He lectured me about working around the constraints of my current circumstances without once enquiring (a) what my life normally looked like or (b) whether I had indeed already made any adjustments!
The upshot is that surgery is required and I am being referred to yet another unit to that end. Goodness knows how long that will take!