Despite a bit of post-general anaesthetic wooziness, nasal oozings of various colours (so what if it is too much detail?), and a big bandage that made the neighbours ask if I have had a nose job,  I can’t let the day go by without a blog thanking the doctors, nurses, anaesthetists, caterers and administrators who got me in and out for a nose operation within a day.

There is something very special about the NHS, which is why decent Americans are so jealous of it, right-wing ideologues (ring a bell?) so wrong not to get it, and British people so fiercely proud of it.

I had the same operation almost 20 years ago, and back then, I was kept in for a while, and had to endure bandages packed into each nostril for a few days.

I’m not saying the NHS improvements since then are all down to a Labour government which believes in the NHS and has invested properly in it. But that government hasn’t half made a difference.

Anyway, enough of the politics – I just want to make a straight-forward thanks to Mr Quiney, the surgeon at the Royal National Throat Nose and Ear hospital near King’s Cross; the anaesthetist Dr Marks, Ivy, Kofi, and all the other nurses, the catering people – best omelette I have ever tasted – the porters, administrators and everyone else who makes something like a polypectomy take place.

When Fiona and Rory came to pick me up, I asked them to bring ten books of The Blair Years to sign and leave as thanks to the doctors, nurses etc. It turned out I had underestimated how many people had actually been in theatre when I was conked out, so Ivy has just been on asking for a few more. On the way, you wonderful people.

Oh ok, one more political point – just before May 1997, we said Labour would save the NHS. I think we did.

On the radio on the way home, George Osborne was warning of deeper public service cuts than feared, with the oldest trick in the book – claims that the finances are worse than feared – and billboards out of the car window were  proclaiming the Clamberon plan to pack the Lords with their donors, old schoolchums, hunting pals and the like. Very old politics, Nick.

Fill the Lords with Ivys, I say. If it has to exist that is.

** Buy The Blair Years online and raise cash for Labour