Woke up at 6am, which should honestly be illegal, but apparently my body thought I needed an early start after missing Tuesday’s work and still recovering from Monday: The Extended Edition.

Started with my obligatory black coffee, because without it I’m basically a confused potato, plus some yogurt so I could pretend I’m participating in healthy living (I’m not).

Booked a doctor’s appointment online for my daughter. Shockingly, they called back instantly and said she needed to be seen this afternoon. Fabulous. Nothing like a same-day summons to spice up a Wednesday.

Arrived at the surgery and settled into the NHS waiting room Olympics: Sit. Stare. Scroll. Sigh. Repeat.

Meanwhile, two ladies at reception were having a full-blown conversation about Christmas: food, decorations, presents like they were recording a festive podcast no one asked for. I’m sitting there thinking, “Is this real life? Am I on camera?”

After half an hour, we finally get called in. The doctor asks why we’re there. I go through the whole saga, symptoms, hospital visits, the usual chaos and then show her the blood test results from A&E.

She stares at them and says, “Oh yes… I can see some raised… things.” Things. THINGS. Wonderful. Very medically insightful. Personally, I love when the professional in the room is just as confused as I am.

Then she hits us with: “It’s not really in my remit. Have you told the neurologist?”

Yes, Dr we have told the neurologist, the gastro team, the cardiologist, four receptionists, three nurses, Google, Facebook, and probably a Deliveroo driver at this point.

Outcome: Another referral, this time to ENT. Because why not? Gotta keep the collection going.

Went home, did some admin (because it refuses to do itself), and then celebrated surviving the day by finishing off the cinnamon knots with a huge milky coffee. Honestly, the cinnamon knots were the emotional support I needed.