Scunthorpe revisited

Once again I packed my bags and one last time I set off into the night, crossed the Humber Bridge and took the windy Lincolnshire roads to Scunthorpe.  This will be my last placement away from Hull as a medical student and I guess I should make the most of it.  In truth, like everyone else, I’m a bit fed up of moving every 8 weeks and having to stay in the NHS funded digs.  Yes, folks, your taxes are paying for this, so thank you very much.

NHS accommodation is always far game for a bit of a moan and does provide some wonderfully blog-able experiences.  It’s been a year since I was last here and I’m comforted to see the standards have not changed.  The ‘blackout’ curtains – designed to allow tired night staff to sleep away the hours of daylight, undisturbed – fail to meet by almost a foot, and my chest of (inappropriately named) ‘drawers’ looks as though it recently took a hasty descent down a flight of stairs.  Apart from this, and once I’d turned down the heating and opened a window (having first established that the flat was not, in fact, being used to nurture rare and tropical botanical specimens), the room is not too bad and still better than last year’s effort.  All that remains now is to decide which of the colonies of rapidly dividing bacilli in the kitchen cupboards looks the least virulent and that’ll be my grocery shelf.