Catch up day

It's been blustery and intermittently wet. So I've taken the opportunity to have an indoor binge: catching up with emails to friends, and - more tediously - with some household admin.
In the afternoon I walked up to the GP surgery for a blood test. I needed to make a follow-up appointment too, to discuss the results. The receptionist was initially unhappy about making an appointment there and then, even looking two or three weeks ahead. Our practice now has a triage system: you enter your details online, with an outline of why you want the appointment, and later someone phones you back with a suggested appointment, either with a GP or with the practice nurse. But this can be a hit and miss affair, especially if the call comes at an inconvenient moment and you find yourself having to phone back... at which point you encounter a long queue. Added to that, this process removes any opportunity to indicate a preference as to which GP you see.
Even writing all this down makes me feel weary. I know why they're doing it; they're desperate to find ways of coping, in a context of under-staffing and increasing need/demand.   I'm describing it as part of my own personal record of the ways in which our National Health Service is falling apart, after 12 years of under-investment.  And, of course, due to the impact of Covid - but that could have been managed, with adequate planning and investment.  The triage system is logical, but just doesn't work well in practice. And for anyone who lacks online access or confidence - well, it's back to the phone queue.

Anyway... the receptionist relented when I explained the context, and also accepted my request to see one of the women GPs.
On the way back home, the winter sky and the rising moon were looking good.