Sanctimony, hospitals and where is winter?

When did we become so openly self-righteous? Last week I passed a car proudly bearing the bumper sticker, "Drive safely, I'm a blood donor - you might need me", or something equally sanctimonious.  Resisting the urge to ram the car from behind, I marvelled instead at how someone could be so publicly pharisaical about their role in saving lives when, behind the scenes, in neon-strip-lit hospital wards, doctors and nurses are working day and night to save lives, through diligence and hard work. 

Though it must be said, there are times when I wonder if the government's money is not better spent. We took my son into the Emergency department last night after he gashed his forehead on the bath. He was attended to by not one, not two, but three members of the hospital staff, in addition to my husband and me. A doctor, a nurse and a play therapist. Yes, one of those endlessly cheerfully-dispositioned women who waves toys in the child's face to distract him from the administrations of the doctor. 

Whilst I understand entirely the role they play for emergency cases (and more importantly, for children without parental support), I do believe that for minor cuts and bruises, the toy-waver can be relieved and sent to do something more productive, like make the coffee to keep everyone alert. But it seemed rude to suggest this, so we gritted our teeth and laughed as she made acutely perceptive observations about the helicopter on my son's shirt.

Winter is here, and to herald it's arrival Sydneysiders have donned trousers, jumpers and scarves - all this despite the average daily temperature being a balmy 23 degrees.  We must be the only people walking around still in shorts and t-shirts, but they are determined the season has changed and it seems futile to point out that in England this would be like midsummer.