Which NHS frustration genuinely makes your blood boil the most?

Ringing at 8:00:01 only to be told you're 47th in the queue, then offered an appointment in three weeks. A national sport nobody asked to play.

Twelve hours on a plastic chair next to someone who definitely shouldn't be there. The triage nurse becomes your closest confidante.

Finding an NHS dentist accepting new patients is rarer than spotting a unicorn on the M25. So it's private fees or DIY with pliers.

Brave enough to ask for help, then told the waiting list is longer than your crisis. CBT by the time you've forgotten why you needed it.

Receptionist, triage nurse, junior doctor, consultant — each somehow missing the notes. By the fifth retelling you sound suspicious of yourself.