Being in a hospital waiting room is like being stuck at an airport waiting for a delayed plane, although without the promise of a holiday at the end of it. Dominic and I usually sit and while away the time staring at a small screen, me on Facebook him on the DSi. We're generally happy enough, occasionally talking and occasionally checking out the other families who spend the hours biting their bottom lips, fishing desperately in the bottom of deep handbags for rice cakes or other such things to try and persuade their children to agree to wait patiently as ...







