I went to the hospital yesterday after calling my GP. I am getting to know London hospitals quite well and my ability to finish off a medical sentence using the necessary jargon always raises an eyebrow. St Charles' minor injury unit were not able to do anything as my rogue jaw was not a result of trauma. When asked if I had been attacked and beaten on the jaw, I should have answered yes. Because I woke up with my jaw out of place, it is not regarded as trauma and is therefore of lesser importance.

St Charles' didn't last long and it gave the gay nurse a free go at cupping my jaw and staring into my eyes. I couldn't help but think of the Billy Connelly skit, what would I have done had he winked at me?

I had to go back to GP at 16:00 yesterday afternoon for yet another opinion. The GP was very nice, a young asian lady with the most incredible color skin, like holy golden cocao and breasts that had been created by Botticelli. I could have rested my face on the holy cocao poultice and fallen into a heady sleep.

I have just come back from a team meeting that very nearly sent me into oblivion.