Yesterday I had a plastic surgery appointment, turned out not quite to be what I was expecting, but fine in the end.  The scary bit was that the person I saw merrily talked about training his juniors despite the fact that he only looked about 12 years old himself...  smooth baby face, no hint of stubble, not a grey hair in sight (OK he was oriental and that makes a difference but even so...).

I'm sure when I was younger medical consultants were all old and grey and craggy and very, very, scary.

This one confused me by giving me choices, whereas the one I usually see gives extremely strong recommendations.  And that's why I was a bit thrown... I thought the decisions had been made, and now they had to made afresh, with more options than I had been aware of.  In the end, I stuck with my original plan... so more "News of the World" photos and more waiting until such time as a slot arrives... best guess is 51 weeks on from the last time, as this seems to be how it works!

In the meantime, I am forced to accept that I am now older than many of the professionals I will meet.  SCARY!