Before she could read or write, Suzanne had crossed out a phone number on a piece of paper. I hailed a taxi and had the driver drive me to the Royal College of Surgeons, thinking that John Elliotson must be a surgeon too. My mother tried to force me to put it on and I would immediately get furious and tear the pants off. One block to the left, not to the right, is the University College Hospital of London, where my office as John Elliotson once was. Click here to sign up.
nest...