On Sunday I developed bags under the eyes. They are infused with blood and do nothing to enhance my appearance. The hospital had said that I should see my own doctor after a few days but I decided that the sooner I did so, the better it would be, for reassurance if nothing else.

On Monday morning, therefore, I went to the medical practice to see whether I could obtain an appointment, preferably sooner than the usual waiting period which can be from 10 days to two weeks or even longer. Happily, the receptionist was able to arrange for me to see a doctor that very afternoon. How she magicked it, I do not know, but I was duly grateful.

I returned at the appointed hour and was seen by not one but two doctors, a young, and I imagine new, doctor and one of the practice doctors who sat in and observed. As the report filed by the Newham hospital had not yet arrived, I needed to recount my accident in detail and answer many questions about it. This was followed by a physical examination and the making of an appointment on Friday with one of the practice nurses to examine the wound on my hand and rebandage it as necessary.

My question as to when the bandages could be removed was answered only vaguely. Perhaps on Friday the nurse can give me a better estimate.

The problem that remains is that my hand, from the wrist to the base of the fingers, is wrapped in a crepe bandage. This means that I cannot even wash my hands properly or do domestic chores involving water. I had already tried putting on a kitchen glove over the bandage but had desisted when I saw that this inevitably pulled the bandage out of position. This morning I tried again because I had realized that the crepe in fact merely acts as a first line of defence against dirt and knocks whereas the wound is covered with adhesive tape and adhesive patches.

By persevering, I managed to ease the glove onto my hand this time and was then able to have a proper wash.That made me feel a lot better.