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I have recently had the misfortune to spend some time in hospital, as my father was not very well.

During this time I have seen some brilliant nurses, doctors and carers who have been an absolute credit to their profession.

I have also witnessed some absolute fucking morons who speak to their patients like they’re fucking children.

You know the type.  The sort of people with those twee voices who speak re-al-ly sl-ow-ly and wear these inane grins and have those cold, dead eyes.  They’ve probably killed their parents and have had them stuffed and housed in their cellar.

“Would you like some dinner?  Would you?  You would wouldn’t you!  I bet you would!  What would you like?!?”

What would I like?  I’ll tell you what I’d like.  I’d like you to stop talking to me like I’m a fucking retard.  I’d like you to stop patronising me.  And I’d like some fucking Shepherd’s Pie.

I thought nurses were like Barbara Windsor.  I thought I was going to witness some sort of Carry On Doctor action.  Instead I was confronted by the sort of moron that shouldn’t be in a hospital, but in an institution instead.


About Twenty8Later

A brand new podcast mocking news, sport & entertainment in handy 28-day chunks. Good times in a terrible, terrible world.

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