We are approaching the final days of the queues to see the Queen’s coffin where so many have walked the miles through the night. #Q4QE2.

My friends MJ and JES did that. Behind David Beckham. Our eldest young D. Queued too, in Edinburgh. His tribute to the ‘boss’. As an ex marine and then ex-close protection officer. He needed to do that.#Respect

What an extraordinary country we are. We even allow our Royals to walk the walk. Stand at the coffin.

Behind the scenes the logistics, the security and the stress. Must be absolutely exhausting. Then young D explains who the anonymous men in morning suits are. Close protection officers . One per Royal. Tiny lapel pin identification. Then think of my Daughter 2 and, many others, in hospitals, clearing bed space in case something awful happens. Or indeed the many visitors fall ill. Let alone the agéd dignitaries from across the world here for the weekend and funeral. Hope they have their own medics with them. Where do they stay? Before jumping in the bus to the cathedral. All the VIPS of the world in one place. Only in London can this be done. Wow.

Then as it is a Bank Holiday, schools shut, businesses shut, so staff cannot work in hospitals so clinics cancelled, operations cancelled, medical exams cancelled. The hope is we all can recover, regroup and, God Save the King. He has one helluv-an act to follow. Poor man.

Whilst most of us have only known one sovereign , my parents, have lived through 5. If I have it right, George V, Edward VII, George VI, QE2 and now Charles III. They are a bit bewildered by the scenes on tv and so have switched to watching murder mysteries and spy dramas!

Meanwhile and in no comparison at all medical-mess update.
Having met the surgeon I have previously called God-of -all -surgeons. I think I will now call him Prof Goss. He really can chatter for England and spread the goss. He, who says, and I quote, ‘ Most surgeons think they are the best. I KNOW I am the best’. He was the surgeon who way back in 2011, undertook to repair the damage to my ureter, and my bladder, inflicted by Mrs Gynaecologist and Mr Urological Surgeon in 2009/10. It was indeed Prof Goss who rang me after he’d sent me home after surgery. Told me he’d get his ‘Stent Man’ to see me in the morning. ‘Stent Man’ turned out to be Jerome. Thank goodness. Over a decade on we are still patient doctor and friend. On that occasion Jerome had to ring me at home to ask who I was, why he was performing surgery on me and what I thought had happened. Master of the short notes is Prof Goss.

Anyhow enough background. I saw Prof Goss at Mira’s funeral. As ever he greeted me with big bear hug and chatted and asked how I was. Not thinking standing in the aisle beside Mira’s coffin, talking about my bladder was entirely appropriate, I mumbled and changed the subject. Mind you she’d have chipped in if she could! But he persisted. ‘Come and see me.’

Tuesday I saw him in his swanky new consulting rooms. No wonder his fee has gone up. I also realised the new building, for which I had been on the patient focus group for, had been renamed. It turns out the original legacy, which had been spent as fast as possible, was from a Russian. Hence a quick name change. Oops. But I digress.

Long story short he has a plan for Botox /Bladder /Ureteric Stump /Sting and speaking to Jerome. Who he now calls the Expert Endo. He says Jerome works too hard but is the best. Having predicted this idea, I indeed had an appointment with Jerome same day, after a quick lunch with our youngest, BFG, in his high tech, groovy office in Paddington.

Jerome was brilliant, had already spoken to Prof Goss. Who had indeed already sent his clinic letter. So. We have a plan. It’ll cost a bit. But we have to sort something fast. Dipstick? No idea. Jerome will tell him. Over a decade ago when this shit show started, I thought Botox was for film stars, wrinkles and, faces. But no. Botox is for Bladders. Says Jerome. Jerome is in fact a famous Endoluminal surgeon. That is, he uses scopes and guide wires and tiny baskets, lasers and dusts ( not the Pledge sort). To get to bladder, ureter and kidney stones . That’s his expertise. Prof Goss is more the open surgery surgeon. But, as he explained, finding my ureter last time was bloody difficult so trying to find the tiny stumpy remains would be major. Let’s avoid major. Endo please.

As for our new Health Secretary. She of the Prosecco and cigars. Scrapping the Oxford comma. I will ignore that and, I know you have noticed. Not that it matters a jot in the grand scheme of things known as the crumbling NHS.