EVER since October 19 when my dear friend Joan had a stroke, I have been a regular visitor to the anti-coagulation clinic in the DGH and I’ve nothing but praise for their excellent service.
But what I have no praise for are three of the five paintings that we are faced with as we sit patiently waiting.
There is one that looks like the head of a giant grasshopper and there is another that is just a mixture of childish scrawls, but the third seems to be a representation of a helleborus stinkhorn (a particularly foul smelling fungus).
I would suggest to whatever organisation it is that has literally forced this so-called art upon the clinic that such terrible paintings are hardly apt for a clinic dealing with blood pressure and Joan heartily agrees.
A C BROTHERS,