It's not unusual for patients to turn up for their retinal screening appointments with a long list of all the medication they're taking, their latest glasses prescription, or a copy of the medical report they received in 1972 when they were booted out of the army. And they always expect me to read them. I've perfected the art of completely ignoring anything they show me, whilst simultaneously looking interested so as not to offend them. But today I had a patient who took the concept one stage further. She turned up with all her press cuttings.

It transpires that at some point (I'm not sure when - I didn't read the date on the first newspaper she gave me) she'd slipped into a diabetic coma, and had lain unconscious on her kitchen floor for two hours until being discovered by...

... her dog. Who licked her face and revived the lady sufficiently for her to phone 999. As she said to me this afternoon, "I'm lucky to be alive. The paramedics said it was a miracle".

I said "Being brought out of a diabetic coma by your dog? Yep, I'd say that was pretty miraculous".

Naturally the local paper were all over it. And having been forced to flick through paparazzi shots of the heroic pooch for a good five minutes before his owner would agree to do the VA, I can honestly say that he takes a good photo. I'm considering recommending him to NICE. Let's face it, he's got to be cheaper than glucagon.