I was at the docs yesterday. Blood test. I smiled as I sat in the waiting room.

I smiled because 30% of leaflets, posters, illustrations, badges, infographics (‘1 in 8 Will Get It’) all around me, highlighted prostate cancer. The black and white design. That little man logo made from little men. Nice!

‘Shit!’ I thought. ‘Great reminders.’

So I shuffled to reception, tippy-tapped on the sliding glass screen between myself and the receptionist, smiled, and asked for an appointment.

‘Sorry.’ She said. ‘There aren’t any.’

The Little Men in the logo, I think, are meant to make me think about Little Men like me. But instead, I thought only of the Little People, that should be Big People, that think this kind of thing, for Little People like me, is OK.

This could be a wee story about politics and politicians. It could be a wee story about the industry I work in, taking money to make things look good, that aren’t good. In fact, it’s neither. Or it’s both. That’s how story works.

But for me personally, it was a jolt. Because I’m such a lucky, privileged man living a lucky, privileged life.

But just for a moment, as I stood there in the waiting room, looking down, not quite knowing what to do next, I felt littler than ever.

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