"Take this [paperwork] to your local hospital and they'll know what to do with it," said the people at Addenbrooke's.

I take the paperwork to my local hospital.

I wait for 48 minutes.

They don't know what to do with it.

"EDTA…  You don't freeze that…  I don't think this is right…" opines the semi-trained monkey with a syringe that passes for a phlebotomist in this part of the world.  "And you've not got an envelope so we can't send it on."  Pause.  "You don't freeze EDTA, do you…?"

"No," confirms the semi-trained monkey's fellow semi-trained monkey.  "That sounds wrong."

'Hmm,' thinks the Minister.  'I can certainly see where you're coming from: as semi-trained monkeys I think you're absolutely right to unilaterally second guess a Professor of Medicine at Cambridge University.'

"You can sometimes freeze it," pipes up the third semi-trained monkey in the room.  "Let me have a look at it," he volunteers.

'Yes, let him have a look at it,' thinks the Minister as the semi-trained monkeys try to pass the paperwork between themselves without the assistance of opposable thumbs.

"Yes," says the third semi-trained monkey.  "It's renin, you see, and you do freeze that."

'Aye, aye.  Things are looking up,' the Minister dares to think.

"Unfortunately," continues the third semi-trained monkey as the Minister's hope immediately collapses once again, "We can't freeze samples here so we can't do it.  You'll have to go to [another hospital entirely on the other side of town].  And to be honest, without an envelope to send it off in you're going to struggle anyway.  Sorry."

"No, no.  Don't apologise," mutters the Minister as he trudges back to the car park.  "After all, wasting an hour of my life, £2.50 for the privilege of parking the Ministerial Limousine at an NHS hospital and what remained of my will to live is no problem at all.  And besides, this is great for the blood pressure test I'm having with my GP in an hour's time."

Stop me now before I kill again, I beg you.