h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Today I went with my friend to Canterbury/Kent hospital to get a blood test done, in order to find my blood group. I'm going to Kyrgyzstan in summer, and I need this information by Thursday for my visa. And we had fun.

But, let's begin at the beginning. It all started this morning, when I went over to my friendly university medical centre to generally inquire. When I arrived, I was told that the nurse had to prepare a special form for me so that I could go down to the hospital to get it done, as long as I handed over £13. (This was after a thoroughly enjoyable hour long wait in a room full of coughing and spluttering students). The form would take a few hours to prepare, so could I ring them at 2pm to find out if it would be ready at that point?

So, this has already destroyed my carefully planned schedule of work, but what the heck, the whole thing is going to be an experience, so I accepted it and went off to hang out with some friends.

So at 2pm, having persuaded Helen to come with me to the hospital, I rang the medical centre to see if the form was ready. But - wait for it - I find out that not only have they not prepared my form, but I have to make an appointment with a doctor to discuss why I want to find out this information (?) So when can I make the appointment?

I quote "It'll have to be on Monday. I'm afraid we can't fit you in until then"

Well, that would be fine, I explain, but I need this for my visa forms, which need to be sent off on Thursday at the absolute latest. The woman talked to me for a while, trying to divert the blame. I was about to hang up in disappointment, but then a small voice pointed out to me that this was unfair, and shouldn't happen, and that I should kick up a fuss.

So I did. I ranted down the phone at them. I shouted, I complained, I pointed out that I was paying £13 for this despte the fact that Britain supposedly has an NHS, I might even have cried. I'm not sure. But eventually I got the woman to go and talk to someone.

After half an hour's wait (this is not an exaggeration - I sat watching the clock on the wall) the woman came back on the phone and said that I don't need any form after all and could just go down to the hospital, present myself, and get it done. Great. Thankyou University of Kent Medical Services. And they gave me the wrong directions to the hospital.

It was fun though, in the end. I really enjoyed it. We explored Canterbury on the way, which was great (I've lived here for 25 weeks and never properly nosed around) and we found loads of cool places. The blood test was completely painless and went fine, and we explored the hospital too.

Going off on a tangent, hospitals are weird things, aren't they? Like their own little private entities - with shops, cinemas, restaurants, citizens. Like seperate towns, with wards for districts and corridors for streets.

So the day was good. But I learned an important lesson. People who are supposed to give their support and help, who are suppoesd to be there for us when we are ill and do all they can for us, who are supposed to be competent and skilled, are actually incompetent, foolish, nasty, mean liars. The University of Kent Medical Service stinks.

And I had to hand over £13.