Views And Reviews

Received with thanks

BMJ 1994; 308 doi: (Published 14 May 1994) Cite this as: BMJ 1994;308:1305
  1. T Greenhalgh

    She does it every time, but I always forget. After she has seen me in clinic she waits in the shadows until the last patient has gone. Then she creeps forward, places a plastic carrier bag outside my door, and scurries away. Ten minutes later I emerge laden with casenotes, and fall over it.

    The contents of the bag, which are never wrapped, make up in originality for what they lack in style. Last time there was an orange and a box of tissues; the time before, a lump of Cheddar cheese and two pairs of nylon knickers. She is disabled and …

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