Adrian Mole: Diary of a Provincial Man

Is there a doctor in the house?

Friday, May 25

I visited my father in his isolation cubicle today. I couldn't be bothered to go through the showering, putting on sterile gown, mask and boots rigmarole, so I was gesticulating to him through the observation panel in the door. I was just about to give him the thumbs up before leaving for home, when his consultant, Mr RT Train, approached, trailed by a gang of medical students. I moved aside and was present throughout Train's lesson in diagnostic technique. He pointed through the glass to my father, who was sitting up in bed reading a laminated, germ-free copy of The Daily Express.

"Take good notice of that patient," drawled Train. "He is recovering from repeated hospital infections, but he is also suffering from an interesting psychological condition. Can anyone guess its nature?" A small Chinese youth said, "Does he think that The Daily Express is a newspaper, sir?" When the laughter had died down, Train said indulgently, "Well done, Wang. Anyone else?" The students took it in turns to peer at my father. Eventually a black woman — who reminded me a little of my ex-wife Jo-Jo — said, "There are three portraits of William Hague in the room. Is he an obsessive?" Train said, "Well observed." He then spoke to the fat Englishman in the group. "Read the patient's notes and give me your diagnosis, Dr Worthington." Worthington's fat face creased in concentration. He read through my father's notes. Eventually he looked up and said, "The poor sod's delusional. He thinks Hague is going to be the next prime minister."

A defeated looking woman cleaner approached with a bucket of filthy water and a rancid mop. She was wearing a cheap nylon overall, emblazoned with the logo Priva Clean. She tried to go into my father's room before being stopped by Train, who ordered her to change the water in the bucket, and don sterile clothes. She whined, "I ain't got time. I gotta clean three more wards and an operatin' theatre before I knock off."

Saturday, May 26

Pandora has abandoned the electorate of Ashby-de-la-Zouch and gone to Hay-on-Wye to seek a private audience with ex-president Clinton. She packed what she called a Lewinsky frock.

She clearly has no morals whatsoever.